The Dawn of A New Day
by Gwenneth
Summary: After Camlann, Merlin rushes to save Arthur with the help of an old friend. The challenges continue for the two as they return to Camelot. Will include a larger-scale Camelot reveal, Aithusa and more! SPOILERS 5.13. AU.
1. Chapter 1

Dawning of a New Day

By Gwenneth

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, just having a bit of fun.

Summary: Merlin has lost so many friends already. After Camlann, he is determined not to lose another. Will he succeed, or is he doomed to suffer another loss? Spoilers for 5.13. AU.

* * *

Merlin's body trembled as he hefted Arthur's weight through the treeline into the light at the edge of the forest. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes and he could barely drag in his next breath as Arthur's weight finally became too much and the both of them crashed to the ground.

Arthur was pale. So pale that Merlin felt the tears breach his lashes and start to fall. They weren't going to make it. The wound was too great and the distance to Avalon too far. He was failing. Arthur was dying in his arms.

"Just … hold me," the King panted, his voice low and weak. "There's something I want to say."

Merlin looked down on his King. His friend. His best friend, truth be told. The unnatural palor, the bright eyes. Death was chomping at his heels and yet Arthur was still so … regal. And he was trying to speak again.

"You're not going to say goodbye," Merlin interjected, trying to lighten the weight of the moment. The comment drew a small smile from the other man, who shook his head. "Because you're _not_ going to die, Arthur. I'm not done with you yet. I have _way_ too much to tell you."

Arthur grasped his shoulder with what little strength he had left. "Merlin," he said, looking at the warlock. "Please, just … let me say this." He gathered himself again, straining, and then spoke again. "I know now, everything you did, you did for me. For Camelot. Merlin … I want to say ... thank you."

His breathing hitched and for a moment, Merlin thought this was it and he was losing him. A shout and a shake and Arthur's eyes rolled open again with a groan. "Arthur, stay with me," Merlin begged, shifting Arthur so that he was laying down on the ground. The King gasped in discomfort, but Merlin took no notice. Instead, he stood up and looked up to the sky.

"We need to get to Avalon now," he said. "And there is only one way I can think of that we might get there before you … before you …" he broke off and finally said, "to get there in time."

Arthur watched blearily as Merlin looked to the sky again. He knew he was dying. And he knew that, while Merlin was undoubtedly powerful, even he couldn't get them to Avalon in minutes. So what was Merlin doing?

He had his answer a moment later when Merlin _roared_.

What came out of his mouth was gibberish to Arthur, but it must have meant _something_ because it was only moments later that a great flapping and a loud "whoosh" sounded above them. A darkness descended upon the clearing and for a moment Arthur thought Merlin had called down a storm or something. But it wasn't a storm.

It was a dragon.

The same dragon he thought he had killed all those years ago.

"M...Mer...Merlin?"

Arthur gasped as he struggled to move. Merlin rushed to his side and tugged him upward, drawing a grunt and a groan as the King reeled again. This time, Arthur did pass out and Merlin looked to Kilgarrah. "Please, we need to get to Avalon now," he said. "He hasn't any more time."

The Great Dragon's golden eyes were weary. His body, old and broken, spoke of years of age and torment. But he didn't scoff about being ridden as he once would have, just lowered his head and waited for the young warlock to heft the Once and Future King onto his back.

When the two were settled, he took to the sky and winged toward the Lake of Avalon. It gleamed and glistened in the waning sun of the day. Evening was rapidly approaching and the purples and reds of sunset cast eery hues over Arthur's pale face as Merlin looked over at where it leaned against his chest. "Please hold on," he whispered, gripping harder.

Kilgarrah began his descent soon and Merlin braced himself for the jolt of the impact. It jarred Arthur awake with a cry and Merlin held his friend tighter as the man panicked at his position – atop a dragon. "Merlin?" He whispered, unable to bring forth a stronger reprimand. "What is this?"

Merlin paid him no mind. "Down we go," he grunted, sliding down from the dragon and to the ground below, hefting Arthur down as he went. The King's weight, complete with mail and armor, took them both to the ground again and Merlin was hard-pressed to get them both up this time.

"Merlin."

The warlock paused at the call, and Arthur managed to drag his gaze up, even if his head refused to follow his eyes. He could do little more than look on as Merlin addressed the towering creature like he would any other man.

"I have to save him," he said, his tone warning the dragon not to argue.

Kilgarrah cocked his head to the side. "I know this," he said. "I have known this since before you were born, young warlock," he said, mirth in his voice. "But there is something I have that you do not, that you will need to save the Once and Future King's life."

Merlin blinked owlishly.

"What?"

The dragon lowered his massive head. "A life."

Merlin blanched. "A … life."

It made sense. This was a mortal wound. For a life to be given – Arthur's – a life would need to taken. Merlin had no life to offer. Did Kilgarrah have someone about he didn't see? "I don't understand," Merlin said. "I could offer myself."

Arthur's eyes jerked to the side and he surged with a surprising amount of strength. "Don't!"

Merlin ignored him. Kilgarrah shook his ancient head. "Yes, you do have your own life," he said. "But you are needed to perform the magic, Merlin. So you can't be the life taken. You need another. I have the other."

Still, Merlin did not grasp what the dragon was saying. Or maybe he did – and just refused to accept it. Arthur, however, understood immediately. "You?" He pulled from Merlin's side and crashed to his knees. Merlin followed him in concern. "Why?"

Kilgarrah ignored Arthur and kept his attention on Merlin as the young man grasped the import of his words. "No," he whispered, shaking his head violently. "I can't lose anyone else. I won't. You can't."

But the dragon blew a blast of red-hot flames out of his nostrils in frustration and the trees on the edge of the lake took the brunt of the heat, blackened and shriveled in its aftermath. "You must," he said. Seeing the desperation, he softened his tone. "I am old, Merlin. When I took you from the watchtower and healed you, I told you that you could not heal my ills. You can't save everyone, Merlin, but together, we _can_ save Arthur. I have lived a long life, and while 20 years of it were tarnished beneath Camelot, the last few I have been free. I have you to thank for that, now let me repay you. Let me rest, Merlin."

The young man swallowed the bile threatening to rise in his throat as Arthur slipped further to the ground, his strength failing him. "I … I hate this," he whispered. "But all right." He looked to the lake. "What do I do?"

Kilgarrah gestured to the lake. "Go to the lake, summon the Sidhe."

"Summon them?"

"Use your staff, boy!"

Merlin flushed and Arthur coughed out an almost chuckle. Holding out his hand, Merlin summoned the twisted staff he had rained fire down upon the fields of Camlann with and Arthur swallowed in anticipation. He had fully expected to die today. Now? He wasn't so sure he would.

The dark-haired man stood ankle deep in the water of the lake and after a moment's contemplation, he canted the staff toward the water and a blast of magic erupted from its end into the clear surface, sending a geyser of water erupting into the air above.

From the geyser burst a flittering mass of green lights. As they drew near, Arthur could see they weren't lights, but beings. Small, grotesque looking beasts with wings that beat furious cadences to keep the creatures afloat in the air around Merlin, who appeared hard-pressed to remain still in their midst.

He couldn't hear their conversation, but seconds later they were rapidly approaching him and the dragon beside him, Merlin trailing behind them. "You wish to exchange life forces?" the Sidhe King asked, his small body growing rapidly until he was the size of a full grown man.

Kilgarrah lowered his head in agreement. "I will offer my own so that he may live."

The Sidhe looked to Merlin. "You will broker this exchange?"

Merlin nodded. "I will."

With a burst of speed, the Sidhe King dropped to Arthur's side and pressed a hand to the wound in Arthur's side. The young King expected pain, but all he got was warmth. "A deadly wound. A mortal wound. Do you accept this exchange?"

"I … I do." Arthur gritted out, unable to meet the dragon's gaze.

The Sidhe turned to Merlin and pressed a hand over the young warlock's on the staff. The wood glowed brightly for a moment and Merlin grunted, as if in pain, before the Sidhe released his hold, rapidly decreased in size, and flitted back to the swarm that was surrounding them at the lake's edge.

Arthur watched Merlin approach shakily. He looked dazed and his hand was clutching the staff so hard his already-white knuckles were the color of bones. His eyes were swirling with gold, but he wasn't currently casting any magic.

"Kilgarrah," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of the magic of life and death he was currently holding. "Is there anything you wish of me before we do this?"

The dragon lifted his head. "One thing, young warlock. I wish for you to find Aithusa and try to save him. He is young and alone, and you are his only kin. Please do this for me." At Merlin's nod, since it was all Merlin appeared able to offer now, Kilgarrah continued. "It has been a privilege to have known you, Merlin. Your father would be proud. Albion will be a bright place indeed."

Merlin was trembling now, his other hand suddenly shooting out to grasp the staff alongside the first. "I can't hold this back any longer," he said. "It's now or never." He looked down at Arthur. "I have no idea what this will do, or how it will work," he said. "I'd never hurt you, you know that, right?"

Arthur looked at Merlin weakly. "I trust you."

That was all the warlock needed to hear before letting loose the Sidhe magic and his own that were battling to be released from the staff. As the words of the Old Magic appeared in his mind, he repeated them aloud and the clearing and the three figures – two small and one large – were soon engulfed in a blinding, golden light.

When it cleared, only two figures remained, both still as death.

* * *

A/N: Not the end, I intend to post more...but that was a fitting place to break and I need to get some actual work, work done! Hope you like! Let me know what you think, and maybe what you'd like to see...I envision at the very least, two more chapters. - Gwenneth


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed and followed the story! I hope you enjoy this next installment.

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was pain. Something was definitely laying on him and his chest was definitely unhappy with the situation. The second thing he was aware of was the mop of dark hair in his face. And the third thing he was aware of was the fact he was most definitely _not_ dead.

Arthur blew a breath out and the hair in front of him moved. He shifted, waiting for the shriek of pain in his side, but it didn't come. For a moment, he took stock of his body. Aside from the weight on his chest, he felt remarkably good.

Memories of what had just transpired slammed back into him then and he surged up, effectively rolling the something on his chest onto his lap. That something turned out to be a heavily unconscious Merlin. Arthur shook his friend in concern, looking around for any sign of the dragon or the Sidhe, but all he saw was an empty clearing and a crystal clear lake. The sun was nearly down on the horizon and the chill of night was in the air.

"Merlin?" He shook the young man again, but there was no response. "Don't you _dare_ be dead," he growled, reaching for the pulse point at the younger man's neck and sighing in relief when he found a strong and steady beat. Falling backward, he let himself relax and his heart slow before he slid out from under Merlin and stood shakily.

There was no fatigue and no pain. He felt good. Incredibly good. He set about removing his mail and armor until he could pull his shirt up and inspect where he had taken Mordred's sword blow. There remained no sign of the wound at all, not even a scar.

A rustling in the woods beyond had the young king diving for his sword, but he soon realized he had no idea where it was, and so he stood protectively over the unconscious Merlin and waited with baited breath for the creature to show itself.

And a moment later out stumbled Sir Percival.

"Sire!"

The large knight hurried forward, his own sword nowhere to be found either, clapping Arthur heartily on the shoulders in an embrace. "It's good to see you well, Sire," he said, "we feared the worst when you couldn't be found after the battle."

Arthur nodded, "It's a long story, Percival, but suffice it to say at the moment, I am well." He glanced back at Merlin and shivered at a sudden gust of cold off the lake. "We need to get a fire going, it's getting cold out here and we're definitely not setting out tonight."

Percival spied the lanky form of Merlin then and his eyes furrowed in concern. "Is he all right? How did Merlin get here? He wasn't at Camlann."

The king knelt beside his friend. "That's an … incredibly long, and complicated story, Percival," he sighed. "And one that Merlin must be privy to, so I'm afraid it will have to wait. Would you be a sport and grab some good wood for a fire while I try to rouse this lazy-daisy."

Nodding, Percival disappeared into the growing darkness and Arthur moved to the lake's edge to gather some water. Perhaps a little cool water would wake Merlin? He nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice sounded to his right. "Arthur."

Turning on his heels in the mud of the water's edge had Arthur on his backside faster than an arrow off a crossbow. "Who's there?" He called out, though his voice was more curiosity than fear since he could have _sworn_ the voice was feminine.

A figure emerged from a thicket then, waist deep in water. She was paler than Merlin, which was saying something since the servant was the palest person Arthur knew, and her red dress was in tatters. And while she was undoubtedly drenched, she didn't appear at all chilled. And she almost _glided_ toward him through the lake's shallows.

"I won't harm you," she said. "I have something for you." She reached out a hand. Perched on her palm was a small glass bottle. The blue liquid inside was shimmering in the rising moonlight. "Give this to Merlin. It will replenish his strength. It was dangerously weakened saving you."

Arthur's glance turned to Merlin at that and he frowned. "He could have died, couldn't he have?" He asked quietly, not knowing who this woman was, but knowing somehow that she was otherworldly. Oddly enough, he didn't fear her, despite her obvious magical qualities.

"He could have," she said, her voice closer now, drawing Arthur's attention back. She was right beside him, a head shorter. "He is dear to me," she said. "Don't waste his gift to you. Kilgarrah was a good friend, and Merlin will need the support of his remaining friends in the coming days."

Arthur returned his gaze to the dark-haired man on the shore as Percival appeared at the edge of the forest again, nearly dropping the wood at the sight of Arthur and a strange woman at the water's edge. "He'll have the support of friends," Arthur said. "I swear it."

He shivered as a blast of cold air hit his back then and when he turned, the woman was gone.

Percival _did_ drop the wood at that. "Sire, are you all right? Did she hurt you? Who was that? What's going on? Why is Merlin unconscious? Maybe we _should_ leave tonight?"

Arthur held up a quelling hand. "Peace, Percival, all is well. She did me no harm."

He moved off toward Merlin, kneeling and tilting the young man's head up so that he could tip the bottle's contents into the warlock's mouth. As he gently coaxed Merlin to swallow, he looked up. "Set the wood there," but he said nothing more and Percival sat down across the fire from the two men in confusion.

Moments later, Merlin groaned and his eyes shot open. "Ouuuch," he grunted, gripping his head with his hand and turning onto his side. "Head...ouuuch."

Arthur pried his hand away. "Merlin? Are you all right? I thought you were _dead_ for a minute there. When I woke up, you were on top of me and you weren't moving."

Merlin was still groggy as he shifted into a sitting position, peering around. His gaze flitted past Percival and then back onto the knight before his eyes widened. "I...what...when'd you get here?"

The knight's eyebrows rose. "While you were out cold," he said. "Care to explain how that happened?"

Merlin's eyes clouded as he too remembered the events of the evening. "No," he said quietly. "I would really rather not." He looked at the fire pit and the unlit wood. His eyes flitted to Arthur, who majestically swung a hand out at the firewood in invitation. With a sigh, Merlin turned his gaze back to the fire.

His eyes lit with magical fire and the pit lit with real fire.

Percival jolted back a foot. When he regained the ability to speak, he said, "You have magic?"

Merlin's eyes rose above the flames to meet the knight's and he nodded wearily. Arthur watched the interplay quietly, waiting to see how the first of the knights to learn Merlin's secret would react. After all, if he were to reintroduce magic to Camelot, he would have to start with his innermost circle. The thought, surprisingly, didn't seem alarming. It felt incredibly _right_.

This was a test to see how it would progress.

For a moment, there was silence around the fire. The wheels in Percival's head appeared to be turning rapidly as he processed all the clues and odd happenings of the years. Finally he spoke. "That's why Gaius didn't seem worried when he told the Queen that Arthur was wounded, but that Merlin was taking him somewhere he might be healed. He knew, didn't he?"

Arthur nodded. "Apparently, all along."

Percival turned his gaze to Arthur. "And you know?"

The king poked at the fire. "I do now," he said. "But I didn't before the battle. I didn't _during _the battle. I didn't until Merlin told me afterward." He chanced a gaze at Merlin. The younger man was staring forlornly at the fire. Was it a reminder of his dragon friend? How was he to support the warlock when he didn't know the first thing about sorcerors? What would Merlin need from him?

"Are you sure you're all right?" He asked. "That woman in the lake said that potion would restore your strength. _You_ neglected to mention the danger to yourself that your spell casting would pose ..."

He might have continued if Merlin hadn't jumped at the words "woman in the lake."

"You saw Freya!?"

"Who?" Arthur asked, confused.

Merlin described the woman he had seen exactly and when Arthur confirmed he had seen and spoken to her, the younger man appeared to be even _more _defeated. That was not the outcome he had been aiming for, he was trying to _help_ Merlin.

"You knew her?" Percival said quietly. Merlin nodded, but wouldn't elaborate, no matter how much the others poked and prodded, and finally Arthur decided there was no way he was going to be able to help his friend tonight so he suggested they all get some rest.

As he lay there, he wondered how he would sleep tonight knowing his time in this world was thanks to a dragon that had sacrificed his own life to save the life of a man who would have seen him dead in a heartbeat.

* * *

Merlin felt the familiar ache in his heart at the mention of Freya. His body was energized by the lake water she had given Arthur, and he could feel his magic returning to its usual strength, but the place in his mind and heart where Kilgarrah used to reside was a gaping hole and he had no idea how he would ever cope with its presence.

It felt like a piece of his chest had been ripped out and the wound would never heal. In the back of his mind he could feel Aithusa, for the first time since the battle, and the young dragon was wailing in pain at the loss of the great dragon as well.

While they had not been friends in the end, they were all kin and thus all connected. Merlin and Aithusa would feel Kilgarrah's death physically, and the former emotionally, for many days to come, if not longer.

Merlin was glad that Percival seemed to have taken the news of his magic with relative calm. Of course, that could be because the knight wasn't raised in Camelot and was not as accustomed to the hatred of magic as those who had lived under Uther's reign. Merlin chose to take it as a good sign that perhaps things wouldn't be so difficult when they returned home.

Home.

Had it really only been a day ago when he had been dragging a dying Arthur through the forest, uncertain if they would ever return home? It felt like ages ago, or even a different life. It almost didn't feel real. And if not for the gaping wound left by Kilgarrah's death, he could almost pretend it hadn't happened.

Until … "Merrrrlin, the fire's dying down..."

"So poke it, you knights like poking things," he said, drawing a smile from Percival and an eye roll from Arthur.

The King chucked the stick at Merlin. "Why don't you just magic it up some more? You don't have to do much more than blink, right?"

The warlock blinked and the fire roared for a moment, causing both knight and king to jump, before it settled into a larger, but comfortable, size. "Right," he said with a lopsided grin. The grin did fade as he stared at the water. "Things will be different now, won't they?" he said quietly.

Arthur watched the golden flames cast golden hues in Merlin's eyes, similar to the golden tint they took on when he cast spells. Things _would _be different. He wasn't sure if his incredible light-hearted ribbing right now was a result of his healing or if he was just … free at last. No more Morgana hanging over his head. No mysterious Merlin to figure out. Things were in the open and he felt lighter than he had since taking the throne.

If only that light feeling were shared by his friend. Because it was obvious Merlin was feeling burdened by his responsibilities. "It's not your fault," he finally said, trying to wend his way to the reason Merlin was really so quiet. "You didn't kill him. He chose to give his life, and even I could tell, half dead as I was, that the dragon was near death himself."

Percival remained silent at the revelation of a dragon, wisely realizing that much had happened between King and Warlock. "It _feels_ like I did," Merlin whispered. "You don't know what it's like, Arthur," he said quietly, clutching his shirt unconsciously, right over his heart. "To take a life from someone. And to make it even worse, I'm a Dragonlord and when I took Kilgarrah's life, it felt like I was ripping _my own life_ out because we're kin. It was horrible." He released his grip and tucked his hands under his arms, though there was little chance he was actually cold, it was more likely a nervous habit. "It's not the first time I've mirrored life and death, you know. It takes a lot out of you."

Arthur wisely chose to leave that other time off the table for right now. "Still, Merlin, my point is that you might have done the actual taking, but you didn't _kill_ the dragon. You ended his suffering and gave me the most precious gift of all – a chance to return to my wife, my friends and my kingdom."

Merlin bit his lip. "I suppose you're right."

"I'm _always_ right."

"Prat."

"Dollop-head."

"That's _my_ word!"

* * *

A/N: So, the story could end there, I suppose. OR, it could continue on to the arrival in Camelot. What do YOU, the readers, want? I have a few ideas for how the arrival back home could go, since Gwen knows about Merlin but he doesn't know she knows, so that would be fun to play with. Want to see it or leave it here? - Gwenneth


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Not sure if I'm happy with this chapter. It was like pulling teeth to get it out! Anyway, there were some requests for more, so here is some more. I'm thinking perhaps the arrival in Camelot next and that will be the place to wrap it up. Let me know if you have any requests...

* * *

The only sound around the three was the crunching of leaves beneath their feet as they wove through the forest. It had been nearly a day since they had left the shores of Avalon. Merlin had said little and neither Arthur nor Percival had pressed him. The former knew he was mourning the death of the dragon and could tell there was a lot the warlock wasn't telling them about the mysterious woman. The latter knew deep sorrow when he saw it and also knew Merlin would speak when he was good and ready.

So silence it was, broken only by the occasional grunt when Merlin tripped or when any one of them drew the group to a halt at the approach of nearing Saxons. Morgana might be dead, but Saxons would still kill or capture them given the chance.

Arthur now knew Merlin was capable of much more than tripping and cowering in a fight, but Percival wasn't and when they came face to face with their first group of Saxons with only Arthur's sword between them, he was in for a surprise as Arthur had been.

"They approach from the east," Percival murmured as the three ducked behind a thicket of bushes heavy with leaves and berries. The bushes provided cover, but not enough for the coming hoard of men, at least a dozen strong.

Arthur held his sword tightly in his gloved had, glanced to the unarmed Percival, and then to the knight's surprise, the king gripped Merlin's shoulder. "So, Merlin, if you were alone right now, what would _you_ do?"

The young warlock looked at the king with wide eyes. "What do you mean, what would I do?" He whispered. "I'd sit right here until they passed, of course!"

The king shook his head. "You and I both know from their movements they are scouring these woods. They would not miss this thicket. You would be found. Merlin, I know this is all _new_ to you … and to me, admittedly, but with Percival unarmed, can you help us deal with them?"

Percival looked between Merlin, the skinny man in clothing that always seemed to hang off him, and the king in armor and mail with a shining sword. He himself was twice the size of Merlin, wearing armor, and even without a sword could take down two of the Saxons without much effort. But Merlin?

"Sire, maybe we should try to evade them," he said.

Arthur nodded, "They are too near," he said. "We would never get away. And even two knights of Camelot with only one of us armed cannot defeat that troop. I did not allow a dragon to sacrifice his life to save mine, just so that some Saxons can take it from me now."

Merlin perked up at that reminder. "I can do it," he suddenly said, a fierceness in his voice and posture that hadn't been present since the events at Avalon. It was like the reminder of Kilgarrah's sacrifice and the danger to Arthur's life had breathed life back into the warlock. "It's just that … I'm still not _used_ to doing this stuff out in the open, you know."

Arthur gripped the younger man's shoulder. "I know, and I'll admit, later, when we are safely ensconced in Camelot, it'll all probably come crashing down on me and I'll wonder what the hell I was thinking letting you run loose around me with magic in a battle, but Merlin, we have no choice here. And, as much as I _don't_ trust magic, I _really do_ trust you."

Percival added a hand to Merlin's other shoulder, drawing the man's attention, "So do I," he said, as the hoard drew closer. "Lancelot always spoke so highly of you, he always said you would do whatever it took to protect your king. I never expected magic, but I always did wonder how you managed to survive some deadly scrapes with not a stitch of mail or armor on."

The warlock smiled grimly. "Sometimes it was a close thing," he said. Turning to the Saxons, he looked up to Arthur. "I'll follow your lead, Arthur," he said.

Arthur turned his attention back to the Saxons, waiting for the opportune moment to launch a surprise attack. With three to a dozen, the odds were stacked against them, so they needed that element of surprise to turn the tide in their favor. The king must have sensed the time was right, because he suddenly sprung from the thicket without a sound and in a flash Excaliber was flashing through the air and taking down Saxons.

Percival wasted no time following his king, wrestling a sword from the grasp of the nearest Saxon and using it to start assailing the foes that attacked him. It was readily apparent, however, that the dozen men they were fighting were not going to wait in line to attack the knights one or two at a time. They came at them in unison and Arthur, as he had at Camlann, prepared a mighty swing.

He needn't have.

A firm word sounded in a strange language from behind him and Percival and the Saxons who were a moment ago moving toward them swiftly were suddenly just as swiftly sailing backward and to the ground with cries of alarm and outright terror.

Percival turned his gaze to Merlin, whose hands were still outstretched and whose eyes were melting back to their normal blue. The frown on his face was serious as he stared at the Saxons who were standing from his magic thrust. It was decidedly fewer than those he had thrown.

"What is this?" cried one. "Magic? Camelot knights don't use magic, who are you?"

Arthur held Excaliber out in front of him and felt Merlin move in closer. It was reassuring. He realized it had always _been_ reassuring, but now he knew _why_. There was just something about Merlin that had always been calming and had always given him the boon he needed.

"Your leader is dead," Arthur said. "Morgana Pendragon was killed days ago. There is no need to continue this battle. Go back to your homes and your families, you needn't die here today." He lowered Excaliber marginally, but not completely. "If you leave Camelot lands, we will not send pursuit."

The Saxons didn't appear ready to move. "You lie," the leader said, hefting his sword. "The lady can't be killed. She is a High Priestess. No blade can kill her, we have seen this. She commands a dragon. She is powerful and you, King of Camelot, are not." So they knew who he was, or had decided it must be the king based on his words.

A slight gesture from this man had two others at his sides moving. The arrows from their crossbows never made it to their destinations, however, as Merlin's eyes flashed and they halted in their flight, hovering in the air in front of Arthur.

Another flash send them careening into the shoulders of their owners. The two men howled in pain, and crashed to the ground, but Merlin had intentionally spared their lives. Arthur was impressed. He wasn't so sure he would have been as sparing.

"Morgana _is_ dead," Merlin said, his voice low and deadly. It was so unlike Merlin that it even had Arthur turning his gaze toward the warlock. "If you think Morgana was the only one with magic in this fight, you are mistaken." The leader had seen Merlin's eyes and the magic turn the arrows back on his men, and now he remained quiet. "I really think you ought to take King Arthur up on his offer. Morgana won't be taking the throne in this lifetime. She was right in her fear of Emrys, I'll always be around to thwart the likes of her."

"But … no mortal blade ..."

Merlin was angry. He wanted to go _home_ and these men were wasting his time. His eyes flashed and clouds rumbled overhead. He took no notice when even Arthur and Percival jumped beside him at the sudden darkening overhead and grumbling in the sky. "The blade Excaliber was forged in a dragon's breath," he said. "It is no mortal blade. It's been a long few days and my patience is wearing thin. Get out of here."

To illustrate his point, a crash of lighting struck a nearby tree, startling even Merlin, who turned to look at it. It appeared he was startled that his magic had drawn a storm so close. The Saxons looked between Arthur, Merlin and Percival with growing fear. Most of it was thrown at Merlin. Even Percival seemed unsure of Merlin at the moment. His apparent connection to the weather was unnerving.

The Saxons turned heel then and disappeared into the forest, rushing off in the direction opposite Camelot. Percival needn't have felt trepidation at Merlin's power because as fast as the darkness and clouds had come, Merlin managed to press them away and turned to Arthur and Percival with apology, "My emotions are out of control," he said wearily. "I usually have much better control than that. I'm sorry."

Arthur looked up again, shaking his head at the implications. His friend was astoundingly powerful. So powerful, it appeared, that Arthur was incredibly lucky that Merlin was loyal. Imagining that power used against Camelot was frightening.

His father's reign of terror against magic could easily have turned Merlin against the kingdom. His body trembled at the thought. Merlin caught the tremble, unfortunately, and interpreted it wrong. "I'm sorry, Arthur," he stuttered, "I didn't mean to overdo it. I wouldn't hurt you guys. It's more show, really, though I have killed at least one person with lightning..."

"No, no," Arthur said, "Merlin, that's not … I was just thinking how grateful I am that you are so loyal to me. I can't imagine what would have happened had you chosen Morgana and Morgause over me. And goodness knows, I've given you plenty of reason to, and my father, he definitely gave you reason to turn. Camelot would not have stood a chance."

The warlock grinned. "No, Camelot would have been long gone," he smiled. "So would you."

Arthur sheathed Excaliber and slung an arm over Merlin's shoulder. "Let's leave the story-telling for later," he said. "We have more walking to do. If we want to make Camelot by nightfall, we better keep going. It's still a ways off."

Percival followed behind the two men, contemplating the revelation of Merlin's power. He was actually shocked at how easily Arthur had taken to it. He wondered if that would cause problems back in Camelot. While he knew that Arthur was not as adverse to magic as some might believe, would the old members of Camelot's council understand this change of heart? Or would they scream "enchantment" and call for Merlin's arrest? Only time would tell. And what would Gwen and the other knights think? And Gwaine. Merlin didn't know.

Percival looked at the back of the dark-haired man's head. He didn't have the heart to tell him right now. But he knew he should do it before he told the kingdom. Merlin was one of Gwaine's closest friends. His first friend in Camelot. He deserved the truth and the news from Percival himself, in private. Not in an announcement to the kingdom.

The silence soon became almost oppressive and it was finally Arthur who broke it, turning to face Percival with a frown. "Percival? What _were_ you doing at the lake? And why in blazes were you alone? So much has happened, I haven't even taken a moment to ask after the city and Guinevere."

The knight stared straight ahead, wishing the silence could have continued just a _little_ longer. "Camelot is well, sire," he said. "The Queen has been keeping the citadel and the people calm and in control in your absence, though understandably she has been greatly worried about you. Gaius brought news that Merlin was trying to get you aid that was unavailable in Camelot." He chanced a glance at Merlin, who didn't react to that. He didn't appear to be listening, really. Maybe he wasn't? The knight continued. "There was … a traitor … in Camelot. A woman named Eira. We used her to mislead Morgana. Then Gwaine and I got it in our heads to go after her, since we knew where she'd be heading."

Merlin's head rose at that. "You and Gwaine went after _Morgana?_ Alone? What were you guys _thinking_?" He threw his hands up. "I knew Gwaine was headstrong, but that's a bit much even for him. That's just crazy. Why in blazes ..."

"M_errr_lin!"

Arthur's incredulous voice cut the warlock off and Merlin's eyes widened as he realized he'd been barking at Percival like he would a wayward child. "Ooops," he muttered. "Sorry, but, Morgana isn't someone to trifle with."

Something about the look in Percival's eyes gave Merlin pause and Arthur sensed something was missing here. "Percival? What happened?" He stopped walking, drawing around until he was facing the knight. Merlin just halted beside the larger man, confused, but wary, as if also sensing something amiss. Percival looked from one to the other, then settled his gaze on Merlin.

Seeing the focus on Merlin, Arthur's heart sped up and plummeted in his chest. Merlin must have realized something as well, because he stepped back a step. "Percival?"

"Gwaine," the larger man said, his voice slipping. "We caught up to her, I thought I'd gotten her, but I had no idea a mortal blade couldn't harm her. She knocked us out. When I came to, I was tied out in the forest. Gwaine and Morgana were no where to be found. But I … heard him … soon enough. It was … horrible. I don't know what she did. I just know it … she got him to talk. And it killed him, Merlin. What she did, whatever she did, it killed him."

Merlin's knees wobbled at Percival's revelation. Gwaine. Tavern-loving, practical-joking Gwaine. His friend and oft-companion in mock crimes was dead? Tortured to death by magic? "I wish I could kill her again," he whispered. "She got off easy." He turned away, his emotions and his magic roiling angrily inside him. He'd lost Kilgarrah, now he'd lost Gwaine. He couldn't imagine how he would have reacted if he had also lost Arthur.

Arthur was murmuring in the background, undoubtedly speaking with Percival, maybe trying to comfort the other knight. Merlin knew that Gwaine and Percival had been great friends, and part of him wanted to offer his own comfort to the man – but right now he just wanted to be alone.

He walked a few more paces off and leaned against a sturdy oak tree, not far from Arthur and Percival. The woods, even though they were closer to Camelot now, were still not safe. Gwaine dead just didn't sit right. He couldn't be dead. Gwaine was too full of life to be dead. Merlin couldn't picture Gwaine … dead. The two words just didn't fit together. But he knew, deep down, that the pain in Percival's voice when he had told them had been _real_. Gwaine _was_ dead.

Kilgarrah _was_ dead. Freya. Balinor. Finna. Alator. They were all dead. So many had died in his quest to see Arthur to the throne of Albion and magic's return. At each death, he questioned every decision he had ever made. Now, he questioned his first decision – the decision to hide his magic from Morgana. If he had just befriended her, confided in her, would she have turned into the broken heartless witch who had tortured Gwaine to death?

"You can stop that right now."

Arthur's voice broke into Merlin's thoughts. Turning, the warlock found both knights beside him. "Arthur, she was good once."

The king leaned forward and gripped both Merlin's shoulders. "I heard you before you killed her, Merlin. I _know_ you blame yourself for what she became. But you are not at fault for that either. Yes, you might have chosen differently and confided in her, but Morgana was always stubborn. My father's failure to acknowledge her lineage would have pushed her to Morgause eventually. And if she had known about you, when you tried to thwart her plans she would have told my father and you'd have been killed or run out of Camelot."

Merlin thought about Arthur's logic. He did have a point. Morgana might have taken longer to turn against them if she had known about Merlin, and had had him to confide in, but she would never have taken Uther's deceit lying down. In the end, the result would likely have been the same.

"I just … so many people have died, I want it to _stop_."

Arthur nodded. "Me too. And it will. We will have peace, Merlin. All of us." The younger man looked up. He could read the sorrow in Arthur's eyes at the news of Gwaine's death, but also the promise that he didn't hold Merlin responsible for anything. "Let's go home. If I recall, _you_ have your favorite meal waiting for you."

Merlin smiled. "Yeh, Gaius did promise that, didn't he?"

Percival joined them. "And we'll be sure to have a drink, for Gwaine. He would have wanted it."

The three took a moment to gather themselves and then pressed on for Camelot.

* * *

A/N: Eep, so like I said, I wasn't quite as thrilled with this one. But it is what it is...hope you liked it at any rate.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So today was really horrible at work - we learned that a colleague passed away. I'm posting this tonight, but I'm not sure when I'll get to writing more. Hope this satisfies those of you waiting for an update. -Gwenneth

* * *

Merlin placed a final piece of firewood in the small pit he'd created, taking a moment to arrange the wood to maximize its burning time. When he was satisfied, he took up the flint and made to strike it. A scoff from his right reminded him of the futility of the action and he threw his head up in annoyance. "Right," he muttered, chucking the flint back toward his resting place and glaring at the fire pit. It blazed to life and he settled back on his heels, gazing into it as he shook his head. "It's going to take a while for me to get used to that."

Percival laughed. "You and me both, mate."

Arthur watched the interaction from his perch on a fallen tree a few feet away. He'd been quiet since they had mutually agreed it was time to make camp for the night. Merlin, while forlorn, was no longer desperately trying to save his life – and it almost seemed like he wasn't sure what to do with himself now. He was trying to fall back into routines, but with the truth of his magic looming over them all and their impending arrival in Camelot, _normal_ really wasn't happening.

The king watched Merlin back away from the fire to a spot beside Percival. The two men were a startling contrast – one fair haired and muscular, the other dark-haired and lanky. Percival looked like he could take apart a man in one blow, Merlin looked like he could be taken apart in one blow.

But Arthur knew better.

He had watched Merlin over the last few days. Granted, at first, he had been dying and it had been hard work to pay attention to his companion while he was struggling to hang on to life. But he had seen Merlin's subtle use of magic to cover their tracks, trick any potential trackers and defeat foes without batting an eye.

Scrawny he might be, but weak, he definitely wasn't. It was disconcerting to think that Arthur had never even suspected Merlin was capable of such feats. He had long thought Merlin brave and loyal and true. But he hadn't ever thought of Merlin as a warrior, capable of wreaking havoc on enemy soldiers.

Watching the men sailing away from the three of them in the woods earlier had been an eye-opener. He couldn't help but wonder how many times Merlin had used magic right under his nose. As he watched the young man create ember creatures above the fire at Percival's urging, he also wondered how his father could have thought all magic was evil and deserved death.

He knew magic _could_ be evil. He had seen it first hand and nearly died at its hand. But sitting here watching Merlin _play_ with magic, and knowing the man before him and who he was, Arthur couldn't reconcile magic with evil any more. He had been considering that magic could be more than black and white before. He'd been aided by that woman who'd healed Gwen. And he knew, from Gaius, that others with magic were on his side. But Merlin drove the point home.

The question remained, however. What would he do now?

That question would be easier to answer if he could get answers to another one – what had Merlin done for him over the years using his magic? And there was only one way to get the answers to that one. Go to the source.

Sliding off the tree, he moved to the fire opposite Merlin and Percival. The former ceased his fire-ember creations and picked up a stick, peering at Arthur over the fire as he poked at it. He appeared to be waiting for a response. A reprimand? A reaction? Did he think Arthur was going to suddenly realize that Merlin had _magic_ and he was supposed to be angry or upset about it?

"Can you do anything else with fire?" Arthur asked, drawing a raised eyebrow from Percival and a gaping look of surprise from Merlin. "Oh come on," he said in response. "Obviously, I'm not angry, Merlin. I _thanked_ you for all you've done, not that I _know_ all you've done, for Camelot. I'm not going to punish you for using magic now. I'll admit … I'm … curious."

The grin that broke across Merlin's face was priceless and Arthur was glad he'd asked the question instead of trying to pry into Merlin's past feats. The young man dropped the stick and contemplated for a moment. "I never really get much of a chance to just play around with magic," he said with a frown. "But, maybe ..." and he cupped his hands in front of his face and whispered into them. When he opened them, a blue flame danced in one hand and a red flame in the other. He gestured for Arthur to come closer. "They aren't hot. You can hold them, if you like."

The king eyed the flickering flames with some doubt, but tentatively reached out a hand for the blue one in Merlin's left hand. With a tip of his palm, the flame skittered down onto the king's outstretched hand and Arthur jerked his hand down but stopped when it only tickled as it came into contact with the bare flesh.

His lips quirked up in a small smile as he rolled the flames from one side of his hand to the other. Merlin, meanwhile, was shifting the other flame to Percival, who'd drawn closer as well. Soon both men were idly watching their own little fires as they bounced and splattered on their palms. Merlin came over to Arthur and reached for the flame. The king relinquished it, watching as Percival also gave up his. The two knights watched as Merlin merged the flames into one, larger, ball. With a whispered word, it burst from his hands into the air above them and exploded into thousands of brightly colored shards.

But none of them lit a fire on the forest floor as they rained down, they just disappeared as if they'd never been there. Arthur had to admit – it was beautiful. And unlike any magic he had ever seen. He looked at Merlin as the young man contentedly smiled at the last of the shards.

"There's something about you, Merlin," he finally said. "Always has been." The warlock looked up at Arthur again, his eyes unreadable. Arthur felt compelled to continue. "When you first told me you had magic, I felt betrayed. It has taken much from me. But as we traveled to Avalon, and as I really _saw_ you for the first time, I realized it has also given me much. What I don't understand, still, is why. You speak of destiny, but I still don't understand it."

Merlin's smile fell away and he blew out a breath. "Destiny is what it is, Arthur," he said. "I was given this magic for a purpose. Many believe that purpose was and is to protect you, the Once and Future King. Don't ask me what it means, because I don't know. I just know that at first, I did this because it _was_ destiny. As time went on, I did it because I liked you. And now, I do it because you're my friend and I care for you and Camelot. Can you just accept that?"

Arthur sighed. "No, but I'll have to, won't I?" Merlin said nothing, just shrugged. His non-answer was answer enough. Arthur would get no other answer. "Fine," the king said, leaning back. "Then answer me this, Merlin. How many times over do I owe you my life?"

Merlin gazed at him over the fire again. The blaze reflected in his twinkling eyes as he grinned. "A fair few, sire. A fair few. Suffice it to say, I'd like to hold you to that promise of _two _days off when we get home."

Arthur grinned. "Fine. But only _two_."

As they laid down to sleep, Arthur realized he would need to get those "fair few" stories out of Merlin sooner or later. And he was looking forward to it. As he drifted to sleep under the stars, he also realized something else. Merlin was due for some recognition.

* * *

The castle rose above the trees and Arthur's heart quickened in his chest.

Camelot.

He had thought he would never see it again. Beside him, Merlin and Percival stood quietly, letting Arthur take a moment to gather himself. It was one thing to return to Camelot as a knight or a servant, but another thing entirely as a king the kingdom had feared dead.

At Arthur's nod, Percival moved on ahead and breached the trees first, moving forward to intercept the castle guards. The men on duty could be seen excitedly rushing into the courtyard, shouts carrying through the courtyard. It was only moments later that running feet could be heard from the courtyard coming toward the gates.

As Arthur and Merlin breached them, knights headed by Sir Leon hurried to line the entryway and control the growing crowd of townspeople who were gathering at the gates to see what the commotion was. From the citadel, a figure in a crushed red velvet dress appeared and dashed down the steps.

She had only eyes for the figure in dirty mail and armor.

"Arthur!"

Guinevere threw herself into the king's arms and he wrapped her tightly in his embrace, his face buried in her soft curls as he pulled her close to him. Neither cared that his armor dug into both of them, neither cared about the audience, all they cared about was being in each others presence again.

"I thought I'd lost you!" Gwen cried, pulling back just enough to place both palms on Arthur's face and lean her forehead against his. "I'm so glad you're well. I was so scared, Arthur," she whispered, kissing him again and hugging him tighter as tears fell from her bright eyes.

"Hush, now," he said quietly. "All's well. I'm fine. I'm back. I'm well."

Behind Arthur, Merlin stood beside Percival, who seemed loathe to leave the younger man's side. He even hovered between Merlin and the other knights, including Leon, who'd come to clap Percival on the shoulder in greeting.

Merlin smiled weakly at Percival and gave him a nod of thanks. He whispered then: "I'll be all right," to the tall knight, who nodded in understanding and whose stance relaxed minutely. The dark-haired man turned his gaze to the white-haired one who soon engulfed him in a firm hug with a cry of: "Merlin!"

Gaius clutched onto his ward with such ferocity that Merlin actually had to press him back a step in order to breath. "I knew you could do it, Merlin," he said quietly. "I knew you'd bring him back." The younger man nodded lightly, turning to watch Arthur and Gwen finally extricate themselves from each other long enough for Arthur to address the crowd.

"Citizens of Camelot! A great deal has happened since the battle at Camlann. At noon tomorrow, I will address you as your King and shed light on things that have come to pass that will bring this city and this kingdom into a new age of peace and prosperity. Spread word to all in Camelot that news will be forthcoming!"

That said, he gestured for those assembled to enter the citadel. Breaking from his knights, with Gwen in tow, he sidestepped toward Merlin and Gaius. "Don't even think about disappearing," he whispered to the warlock. "I'll need both of you at a meeting of the Round Table in an hour."

And then he swept away, leaving a stunned Merlin and Gaius in his wake.

"That's it?" Merlin asked the empty air around him. "I had expected … I don't know … something more." He turned to Gaius. "Is it just me, or is Arthur taking all this way too easily?"

Gaius grabbed his ward by the arm and all but dragged him up the stairs to their chambers. "Merlin, honestly. Don't be gabbing in the corridors! Arthur might know about you, but no one … well almost no one … else does! He's had days to get used to the idea."

Merlin was about to argue when he turned to Gaius with a frown. "Wait, _almost no one_?"

Gaius gave him the raised eyebrow of doom. "Upstairs with you. You need washing. We've only one hour, Merlin."

As the younger man disappeared into his room with a grumble, Gaius collapsed into the chair at his desk and watched him. He had known sending Merlin and Arthur to Avalon had been a long-shot and truth be told, hadn't expected them to successful. He knew how the Old Religion worked. Who had Merlin lost to save Arthur? And what did Arthur have planned. Surely he wasn't going to just reverse the ban on magic, just like that? No, Arthur was too smart for that. Arthur was going to want to tell his inner circle though. And he was going to want the story. The entire story.

"I'm getting too old for this," the man muttered, resting his head in his hands.

* * *

When Peter had rushed into the corridor Gwen happened to be traveling down, out of breath but with a huge smile barely contained on his face, the Queen had known immediately – Arthur was home. She had hiked her skirts and rushed with as much dignity as she could muster to the castle entrance.

As soon as he breached the gates, she had thrown dignity partially to the wind and accelerated her pace into an almost-run. It bridged the distance quick enough and she was soon burying her face in Arthur's sweaty hair, not caring that he smelled of blood, sweat and earth.

Beyond her beloved, she had caught a glimpse of the man she hadn't seen in over a week. The man she now knew was more than just a servant and a friend. The man she now knew was a powerful sorceror. Merlin looked exactly as he always did. Dressed in the exact same clothes, with the exact same pack slung over his shoulder.

There was a difference about him, though. He seemed _uneasy_. He kept glancing at the knights in the courtyard, as if he feared them. He had never looked upon them in such a way before. Did he think they knew his secret?

She was drawn from her reverie when Arthur spoke, announcing to the crowd that he would address them on the morrow. When he swept her along toward Merlin, she almost backpedaled. She knew about his magic, but she wasn't quite ready to _confront_ him yet. She had accepted he was on their side, but _seeing _him here in the flesh, and knowing he was magic, was oddly unnerving. As she drew abreast of him and Gaius, she felt unease warring with her usual urge to greet her long-time friend.

So distracted was she that she missed whatever it was that Arthur had said, and nearly stumbled when he began moving off in the direction of their chambers. The butterflies in her stomach settled as they moved off.

She would need to speak to Merlin sooner rather than later. She wouldn't let his magic come between them. Gwen refused to lose another friend to sorcery.

* * *

A/N: Obviously, I intended to write more...like I said at the start, I don't know when. Maybe soon, I just don't know. If you enjoy it, lemme know.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks to all those who have reviewed, favorited and followed this story! I'm very honored that you're enjoying it! This is the longest chapter yet, and I'm uncertain about the path I took, but it just came out this way and so here it is! As usually happens, I'm having trouble wending down...I just want to keep writing a whole next season! ARGH! -Gwenneth

* * *

Percival stood opposite Leon as the older knight patted a young recruit on the shoulder and dismissed him. He had yet to make real eye contact with the man. When he had walked beside him to the knight's quarters, Leon had asked him where Gwaine had gotten to and Percival had haltingly informed the man that Gwaine had perished.

Leon had looked at him askance, and then said nothing more, just gestured for him to continue alongside him. Percival assumed he would want an explanation, being Arthur's first knight and captain. But how could he explain his and Gwaine's foolhardy mission to kill Morgana? They had struck out on their own against a foe they knew could easily thwart them – and it had led to Gwaine's death.

He had hid it well in the forest with Merlin and Arthur, since there had been the looming topic of Merlin's magic and Arthur's amazing return from near death to keep their attention. But now, with just him and Leon, he would need to come up with a reason. And he didn't really have one. Not a good one, at any rate.

Which is why he was dreading Leon's eventual turn.

When it came, the older man simply gazed at him for a moment before coming up to him and looking him up and down with a practiced eye. Finally, he spoke. And it wasn't what Percival was expecting. "Why don't you go change? You look like you've seen better days, Percival. They'll be time enough later for why and what for. Right now, we mourn and we remember. We don't take ourselves to task for the things we can't change."

He put a hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Gwaine was a great man and a valiant knight. Whatever reason the two of you had for leaving Camelot, and under whatever circumstances he perished, I'm sure it was for the betterment of the kingdom."

The man steered Percival around. "Go clean up. You heard the king, meeting in an hour."

Percival nodded and moved off down the corridor. Before he turned the corner, feeling Leon's eyes on him, he turned and responded: "Thank you."

Leon inclined his head and ducked back into the quarters.

* * *

Merlin's stomach _growled_.

He clamored down the steps into the main room of Gaius' chambers, following the _smell_.

"Gaius? Is that ...?"

The old man was standing proudly beside the table, upon which were perched two steaming plates of Merlin's favorite – roast pheasant and seasoned vegetables. The aroma had drawn Merlin from his chambers, stomach first.

"You remembered," the young man said, drawn to the table by the tantalizing aroma. "My favorite!"

Smiling, Gaius sat across the table from Merlin, who ran one hand through his damp hair and picked up a fork with the other. As the younger man dug into his food, the older simply waited, eye poised and ready to raise as Merlin continued to put off telling him _anything _about what had happened since he had left them in the woods a few days ago.

As the silence continued, the eyebrow rose until Merlin couldn't ignore it anymore. "Ehem," Gaius finally said, leaning his elbows on the table and piercing the young warlock with his gaze. "Is there something you wish to tell me, Merlin?"

Looking up from his plate, which was nearly polished off, Merlin swallowed the piece of potato he had just shoveled into his mouth and licked his lips. "Would you let me off if I said I didn't want to talk about it?"

The eyebrow answered him.

"Right," Merlin said, setting the fork down. Best get it over with. Gaius wouldn't let him off when he set his mind to it. "Obviously, Arthur's fine. But it was a near thing, Gaius. If it hadn't been for Kilgarrah, he would have died." Looking down at the table, Merlin picked at a piece of worn wood. "He must have _known_. Somehow. He came in _seconds_ when I called him, like he had been _lurking_ around waiting for me to call."

Merlin trailed off, lost in thought. When it appeared he might not continue, Gaius did. "He knew you'd need a life," the older man said. "I feared as much, but I wasn't positive." The man leaned forward. "You're not blaming yourself, are you?"

That got Merlin's attention. "Why shouldn't I?" he pushed his chair back. "If I had only _listened _to him when he warned me about Morgana and Mordred the first _dozen_ times, Arthur might never have needed saving." He was pacing now, as if he had been waiting the entire journey to get this off his chest. "Gaius, I should have known there would need to be a life. I was more than willing to give my own, but I couldn't and I feel horrible knowing I took Kilgarrah's."

Gaius rose and cornered Merlin, gripping his arms to stop his pacing. "You did not take Kilgarrah's life." He spoke firmly and slowly. "You accepted his sacrifice. And you forget, Merlin, that I knew him once. He would have given himself freely to such an end. Of this I'm sure. You've always been alone in your duty to Arthur, but this time you had help. Accept it and move on. Don't let your guilt taint Kilgarrah's great sacrifice. Especially when there is no need for that guilt."

Merlin stared at Gaius, his eyes brimming again. He had cried too much the last few days. He wouldn't do it again. He _wouldn't_. But Kilgarrah and then Gwaine? Atop that cliff he had really thought he had thwarted the prophecy and saved Arthur. He hadn't imagined he was about to lose two great friends. Gaius shook him, drawing his attention. "I am so very proud of you, Merlin. So proud. And I know that your father would be as well, and I'm sure Hunith, when she learns of your deeds, will be equally as proud of you." He shook lightly again for good measure. "Take a moment and let _yourself_ be proud too. You've done well, my boy."

The young warlock put on a small smile, though his chest ached just as badly as it had since the shores of Avalon. It would take time before he could reconcile a job well done with the death of a friend. A loud rap at the door drew both their attentions, however, and Merlin batted at his eyes to dispel any sign of upset before the door creaked open to admit the tousled head of Sir Leon.

"Gaius, Merlin, for some reason Arthur wanted me to make certain you remembered to assemble at the Round Table," the knight said, holding the door in one hand, his other resting on the pommel of his sword. "Seemed a bit off, as it's only been three-quarters of an hour, but who'm I to question our king?" He was trying for levity, and failing, but at least he was trying. Merlin could appreciate the gesture, he was known for such attempts himself.

"We were just leaving," Gaius said, brushing his robes straight and striding toward the door. Merlin was slower to move, but followed, snatching the last piece of bread from his plate as he passed. Leon smirked at the move, but said nothing. He was of the mind Merlin could do with a few more pounds anyway.

* * *

Arthur sat at the Round Table, Guinevere at his side. The room was empty save the two of them. Neither spoke, each lost in their own thoughts. They were sitting so close that their thighs and shoulders very nearly touched. If anyone thought it inappropriate, it was unlikely they would comment. Arthur had been gone long enough to have been feared dead, no one would begrudge the Queen and he a little leeway after such a trial.

The first few knights filed in, garnering nods from Arthur and smiles from Gwen. The king was sober as he realized how few of his original "Round Table" knights were left. Lancelot was dead. Gwaine was dead. Elyan was dead. He had lost a lot of good men in recent months. And all to Morgana and her hatred. Now that he knew about Merlin, and he knew that the man blamed himself for Morgana's fall into darkness, he could understand some of the odd moods his servant had gone through in the past. How many times had he blamed himself for her actions, and had no one but Gaius to confide in? Merlin had shouldered a lot of responsibility while hiding in the shadows.

Speaking of Merlin, he and Gaius, accompanied by Leon, entered the chamber next, followed by Percival and the last of the Round Table knights. Arthur wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to accomplish here with this meeting, he just knew that he had to at least address the obvious – the sorceror at Camlann.

When everyone, bar Merlin, was seated, the king spoke. "As you all know, the battle at Camlann was tough ground," he said. "And it wasn't until we received aid from the most unlikely of sources that it turned in our favor." A dull murmur rose from the circle at that, whispers of "magic" and "sorceror" clear among them. "Quiet, please..."

The murmur died. "The aid we received was unsolicited – but it was greatly appreciated." He watched the reactions. Seeing only a few furrowed brows, he continued. "What I am about to tell you, must not leave this room. If word reaches the streets, I will know it came from here and the repercussions will be swift and harsh."

"During the battle, Mordred exacted revenge on me for the death of his druid friend," Arthur continued. "The wound – was a mortal one." The murmurs were thicker and louder this time, as the knights' confusion sounded around the table. "Let me finish!" Arthur barked. "The wound, was a mortal wound," he said. "And our court physician can attest to that." Gaius, uncertain where Arthur was going with this, could only nod. "It was at his suggestion that our magical benefactor accompanied me to Avalon, where such a wound could be healed."

It was a testament to the knights' respect and discipline that they didn't murmur loudly again at that, but they managed to quell their reactions and wait for the king to continue his story. Even the Queen was spellbound by his words, not knowing the full story herself.

"I don't intend to get into specifics, but suffice it to say, the sorceror was able to thwart my death – using magic – and it would be hypocritical of me to turn around and condemn him to death for saving my life," the king continue. "But that being said, I don't intend to address any changes to the laws of Camelot or to lift any ban – _right now._ To do so would only invite suspicion. I have brought this information before you, my trusted knights and council, because I wish to hear your thoughts on magic. And I want honest answers, not those you think I want to hear, or those you would have told my father."

He could almost feel Merlin's eyes boring a hole in his back, but Arthur refused to turn around. If he did, he might lose his resolve. He wasn't going to back down. Merlin had done _so much_ for Camelot. He had watched him as they had traveled to Avalon and back and it had been readily apparent that Merlin and his magic had done far more good than Morgana had done bad. He owed it to his friend and to the man who had saved his life, apparently more than once, to at least give this a fair shake right now.

It was Sir Leon who spoke first. "Sire, if I may," he said, waiting for the go-ahead from Arthur before continuing. "I have seen, firsthand, both the evils and the miracles of magic. I've seen it kill and I've seen it give life. I've been the benefactor of magic, as I'm sure you know, at least once. I admired and respected your father, but I never fully believed magic was evil through and through. I thought of it as like a sword – it could be used for good or bad, it merely depended on who wielded it." He peered around the table. "I think the man at Camlann proved that, sire. There was _no reason_ for a sorceror to come out of nowhere to support us. And yet one did. How can that be evil?"

There were thoughtful nods of agreement from many of the knights. But then again, Arthur hadn't expected there to be too much disagreement from this group. It was the old council dominated by his father's appointees that would provide the dissidents should he decide to delve into magical laws at a later date.

Sir Bedivere spoke next. "I was stood close behind you, sire, at Camlann. I was nearly run through by a Saxon. If it hadn't been for that sorceror, blasting back the man with a bolt of light or … whatever it was … I wouldn't be sitting here. If that's not using magic for good, I don't know what is."

A voice from Arthur's left was slower to agree. "It could be a trick, sire, to gain your trust. You said yourself, the sorceror had no reason to join in the battle on the side of Camelot. Perhaps the _reason_ was to gain your trust and a place at your side."

The king had also thought of that. And now for the real test of this council's mettle.

"That would be possible," he said with a smirk, "if I didn't already know this man and I can assure you, there is no reason to fear he has any aspirations for the throne." A dead silence fell over the room at that revelation, though Arthur could have sworn he heard an almost _choking_ sound from behind him, right were _Merlin_ would be standing.

"You _know_ the sorceror?" came an inquiry from Sir Leon. "Sire, how?"

Arthur realized perhaps he should have _asked_ before getting this far. It wasn't really his secret to tell. And if he were to turn around right now and ask the person in question if he were all right with it, it would be as good as telling everyone anyway.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, this discussion, but he realized he'd talked himself into a corner that involved either withholding information from his closest circles of friends and advisors, or outing his best friend's secret. Neither option seemed very appealing at the moment.

Percival came to his rescue. "We're getting off topic," the knight said. "The king wishes for our opinions on magic, not a witch-hunt for the identity of the sorceror at Camlann. Sire, you already know my thoughts on the matter. Magic is like any other tool. It's up to the caster how to use it. I'm not from Camelot. Where I grew up, magic was not punishable by death. Many common illnesses were cured by enchanted poultices – but on the down side, many a crime was made worse by a perpetrator's magical prowess. It has it's good and bad points."

When everyone had spoken, Arthur turned to Gwen. The Queen was staring at the windows lining the hall, lost in thought. Realizing attentions were now on her, she frowned and gathered herself. "Magic," she whispered. "… a month ago, I would have told you it was evil, through and through," she said quietly. "But more recently, I've learned things that have led me to believe that might not be the case. If anyone knew Morgana Pendragon before she fell into disgrace, it was me. I thought for the longest time, that it was magic that corrupted her. It had to be, I told myself. But then I realized I knew someone with magic, and they hadn't been corrupted. They were the nicest, most selfless person I knew. So I began to look elsewhere for what had changed Morgana. And I realized something. It wasn't her _magic_ that made her what she became. It was her fear, and her bitterness and her longing for _more_. More love, then more knowledge, then more power. It consumed her. Magic just made the danger she became more deadly."

Looking up, she met the eyes of those across from her and moved along the table. "No, magic is no more evil than a sword or a mace. I believe as most of you do. It's how you use it."

Arthur nodded, satisfied. "Then perhaps knowing how all of you feel about magic, our benefactor would be inclined to reveal himself?"

The implication wasn't lost on anyone. Heads swiveled around as everyone at the table tried at once to see who was looking guilty or appeared to have something to hide. No one looked _beyond _the table except Percival, the only one in a position to see Merlin from where he was sitting.

Merlin appeared ready to bolt. What was Arthur thinking? Obviously the poor boy wasn't ready to tell everyone in this room about his magic? Sometimes Percival wondered how the two of them had become such good friends when they appeared to know so little about each other.

When Merlin didn't say anything, Arthur made to turn around, but Percival felt the urge to stop this reveal in its tracks. "Sire," he said. "Perhaps this is a bit too fast. Might it be prudent to give him a little more time?"

Arthur paused, gazing at Percival. The knight was in a position where he could see Merlin, this Arthur knew. Was he seeing something that was giving him reason to pause? Was Merlin panicking? He didn't want to scare his friend or do anything to hurt him, but he wanted to _recognize_ him for all that he'd done for Camelot.

"If he needs more time, that's all right," Arthur said slowly, chagrined. "I just felt it would be nice to give him credit where it is due. Where it is _overdue_, actually. Perhaps I got a bit ahead of myself."

There was another pause, and then:

"It's all right ..."

The voice was so quiet, it was almost unheard. But Sir Bedivere and Sir Leon, who were closest to Arthur and Gwen, craned their necks around until they were facing the speaker. Seeing their movements, others tracked their gazes toward the lanky servant nearly plastered against the wall, almost forgotten in the vast hall.

Merlin appeared uncertain, but strangely determined at the same time. He looked directly at Gwen as he spoke next. "How did you figure it out?"

The Queen smiled. "When Gaius said he knew the sorceror at Camlann. I started to think about all the little things and then it just began to make sense. You're always there, Merlin. Whenever the impossible happens, you're right there beside Arthur. When everyone else fell, the two of you would come walking or stumbling back. But you'd always come back. It just … fit. Gaius confirmed it for me."

"Wait a minute, are you saying … Merlin?" Leon was stumbling over his words. "Merlin?"

He leaned back in his chair. Then he leaned forward. Then he peered at Merlin hard for a moment before – a chuckle. Then a shake of his head. Then a stronger chuckle. Until finally he laughed in relief. "I don't believe it," he finally said. "It just … it _does_ make perfect sense! And … you're right, Arthur, there is no reason to fear Merlin would aspire to take your throne."

The others appeared to be slowly grasping the new information as exclamations of surprise began to sound around the table. Merlin looked from Gwen to Arthur, who he proceeded to glare at. The king glared right back, daring the warlock to do something about it.

Gaius was holding back a small smile, glad to see that Merlin was getting some well-deserved recognition – and would no longer be alone in serving, and saving, his king and kingdom from magical threats.

"But that man at Camlann was old and wrinkly," said Sir Leon. "You, Merlin, are decidedly not." He frowned. "And come to think of it, I've seen that old man before. He was the same man that tried to heal Uther and the same man that was nearly executed for allegedly enchanting Arthur."

There was silence in the hall again. Merlin's eyes whipped to Arthur. The king's own eyes widened as he made the same connections. Before they could darken with rage, Merlin threw forth a rapid-fire explanation for all three occasions.

"It was an aging spell!" He said. "I used the same one when Morgana framed Gwen and tried to have her killed and when I tried to heal the King, which _would have worked_ if Morgana hadn't had Lord Agravaine put a cursed pendant 'round his neck that reversed the spell." He slowed to catch his breath. "I usually did things in hiding, but when I had to come out in the open, I'd use the aging spell."

Arthur sensed a tidal wave of questions was about to explode in the room. He knew he had to head it off. "Obviously, we have much to discuss. But right now, I am tired, as I am sure are my companions. We had a long journey and need some rest. Tomorrow at noon I will address the city and tell them only that Morgana has been vanquished by a sorceror who lent his aid to Camelot in her time of need. In good faith, for his assistance, I will pledge to look at magic on a case-by-case basis and no longer decree immediate death sentences or banishment for its practice. But that is all. That Merlin is a sorceror is need-to-know, and only _we need to know_."

When he had gotten vows of acceptance all around, he dismissed the knights of the Round Table and stood. Turning to Merlin, he saw a strange sort of pride mixed with embarrassment on the warlock's face.

Faced with the man, he wasn't sure what to _do _with him now. He couldn't exactly treat him like a servant anymore, could he? "I promised you two days off, Merlin," Arthur finally said. "Take them, rest and mourn as you need. We have much to talk about and I dare say at least a few decisions to make. But I want to make one thing crystal clear."

He waited until Merlin was looking him in the eye.

"We are in this together, all of us, and we will make it work."

Merlin nodded slowly, muttering. "Two sides of the same coin."

Arthur frowned. "What?"

But Merlin wouldn't elaborate, choosing instead to shake his head and say, "Nevermind. Forget I mentioned it."

The king shrugged and dismissed his friend and court physician, but had a nagging feeling in his chest that he knew that phrase from _somewhere. _Almost like he'd said it himself_. _He just couldn't pinpoint where or when or why he would have.

* * *

A/N: OK, so ... the beginning of a larger reveal... obviously the Round Table has heard Merlin has magic, but as of yet, none of them bar Arthur, Percival and Gaius have seen him as HIM perform it. That is yet to come and I haven't figured out how I want that to happen just yet. I have a few thoughts. Any suggestions?


	6. Chapter 6

A/N:RIGHT, so obviously I have slowed down a bit...it took me a little longer to get around to this chapter. That usually means that I am running out of ideas! So, if you have some, pass them along. I can do humor, angst, action, whatever. I hope this chapter isn't a disappointment, I kinda like it, but it was a beast to get together at the same time.

* * *

Merlin collapsed into his bed that night, more exhausted than he could remember being in quite some time. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but wonder – had Gaius put something in his food to _help him sleep_?

He didn't have time to think on it before he was completely unconscious, lost in a dreamless slumber.

Gaius peeked into the room a few minutes later and gazed fondly on his ward, sprawled on the small bed, limbs askew. He _had_ slipped the young warlock a sleeping draft. Gaius was no stranger to depression and he had seen it on the younger man's face the moment his charge and his King had breached the castle gates. Merlin needed rest and Gaius was going to see to it that the boy got it – whether he liked his methods or not.

Satisfied with his mission accomplished, Gaius slipped back out to his workroom.

Elsewhere in the castle, a group of Camelot's knights was finding sleep far more elusive.

Leon had sobered considerably since being dismissed from the Round Table. His first reaction to Merlin having magic had been incredulous laughter. Incredulous that it had gone hidden for so long because now that he really _thought _about it, the clues had been there all along.

Merlin who had no real skills with a blade would escape nearly every battle and skirmish unscathed. The manservant who tangled with bandits, sorcerors, witches and magical creatures and had lived to tell the tale every single time had to have _some_ sort of defense. Magic made sense.

What didn't make sense was why he was here in Camelot. Why had he tried to save Uther, of all people? Arthur seemed completely confident that Merlin had no desire to see himself on the throne, but what other reason did the man have for so fervently protecting the crown?

"I just can't _believe_ it," said Sir Pelinor. "All this time and there was a sorceror right under our noses. Merlin probably used magic during ambushes and we never even noticed. What I'd like to know, is how many times did he save one of us with it? Or how many times did he save the King?"

From behind him, Sir Nereth snorted. "What _I'd _like to know is just how long he'll remain the faithful follower before he decides he's had enough and wants more."

Leon saw Percival and a few of the other knights who had known Merlin longer bristle at the implication. He moved toward Nereth first. "Sir Nereth, that was uncalled for. Merlin has never done anything but serve King Arthur with loyalty and bravery far beyond his station. To call into question his intentions without proof or reason is unbecoming a knight of Camelot."

The man's eyes narrowed. "He is a sorceror, Sir Leon, surely this changes things! I don't care what good he's done, magic has been on the throne of Camelot a few times in recent years and brought nothing but death and destruction with it!"

Percival deposited his chain mail on the narrow bench beside him and stormed over. "And all those times, _Merlin_ was at the forefront of the efforts to _reclaim_ Camelot, Sir Nereth. Surely you cannot call _that _fact into question?"

The knight pondered that point a moment before nodding his agreement to its authenticity. "I'm not disputing his loyalty right now," the man said, with less steam this time, seeing he was in the minority here. "I'm simply saying that even Morgana was a stalwart defender of all that was good and just in the beginning. We can't just go on faith."

Leon shook his head. "I doubt King Arthur does anything on faith alone, Nereth." He patted the man on the shoulder. "I'm certain there is more to the story that needs telling. The King is wise and would never jeopardize the kingdom. If Merlin were a threat, he would not be walking around freely."

Nereth put forth one last theory. "But Leon, if Merlin is powerful enough to heal the king of a mortal wound, how do we know he isn't enchanting him to his will right now? How do we know the king is acting of his own volition?"

No one answered immediately. How could they? There was no way to prove that _wasn't_ the case. Truth be told, Leon had to admit that the possibility did exist. Uther had been enchanted by the troll's magic, and Arthur had been enchanted with Vivian. People could be controlled.

The thought was sobering.

"I think there comes a time when one must simply learn to trust their instincts in life," said Percival. "And I trust Merlin. He isn't enchanting anyone. I would stake my life on it and if I had a family, I would stake theirs as well."

Leon was silent. Did he feel the same? He thought over all the times Merlin had joined the knights and Arthur in battle. He'd even ridden to face a dragon with them when there had been little chance of success.

Wait … dragon … all thoughts of Merlin and his trustworthiness went out the window.

"Good grief, he's a Dragonlord!" Leon exclaimed.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and early. Merlin, used to rising to rouse Arthur, was surprised when he opened his eyes to sunlight streaming in the window. It was late – or rather, late for _him. _He sprang from his bed and slipped his arms into his brown jacket, skidding down the steps into the common room of Gaius' chambers.

"I can't _believe_ you let me sleep so late!" He cried, grinding to a halt when he realized Gaius wasn't alone.

Leon, Percival and a half dozen of the knights of Camelot were perched on various surfaces in the physician's workroom. Near the window was Arthur and at the table, perched gracefully, was Guinevere. Had they really been _lurking_ while he _slept_?

"What … is going on?" he managed, actually taking a small step backward in his uncertainty.

Arthur spoke for them all. "Leon brought up an interesting tidbit of information," he said, standing and sauntering closer. "About a certain ... companion of yours. I headed off the bunch of them on their way here to ask you about it. Apparently it occurred to them that you must be a Dragonlord."

Merlin sputtered. "Wherever did they get that idea?"

He was trying so hard to act nonchalant that it was _painfully_ obvious the question had him flustered. "We were … discussing … your talents," Leon stammered, uncertain how to address the topic of Merlin's magic. "I got to thinking about the times you'd accompanied us into battle unarmed and how you'd survived unscathed. I thought about the time we rode out against the Great Dragon and then how the old sorceror at Camlann repelled the white dragon … it made sense."

He trailed off at the pain that seemed to cross Merlin's face at the mention of the Great Dragon. Arthur too noticed it. His brow furrowed in concern. "Merlin, the Great Dragon … you told me I killed him. But … that wasn't the case, was it?" He whispered. "That … was him? Kilgarrah?"

Merlin could only nod.

Arthur slumped into a chair and hung his head. To think, his father had ordered the death of the dragon that had ended up sacrificing his life to save Arthur's a few short years later. How twisted were fate and destiny.

"Who is this Kilgarrah?" Leon asked.

Gaius answered, saving Merlin the trouble. "The Great Dragon's given name was Kilgarrah. He is the dragon who gave his life so that the King might live," the man said, drawing gasps from the knights. Arthur looked up, taking up the conversation. "You are my closest advisors and friends. The knowledge that a dragon sacrificed his life for me must not be known, not yet. Perhaps not ever, I'm not sure. I just … right now nothing is certain and I want to keep this information close to me."

He stood and moved to Merlin's side, drawing his friend's attention. "Merlin, I don't want to cause you any undue stress, but I have _so many questions_. Are you up to some story-telling?"

For a moment, Arthur feared the younger man would refuse. It was apparent he was still grieving and overwhelmed by it all. But a smirk crossed the warlock's face and he managed a chuckle. "I suppose I'm ready, if _you're_ ready to learn just how many times I've saved your royal backside," he replied.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow but refrained from a playful slap like he might have in years past. It just didn't feel _right_ to slap a powerful sorceror. "Come on, it's couldn't have been all _that_ often," Arthur said, with a grin. He might have said more if _something _hadn't suddenly chosen that moment to nudge at his consciousness like an annoying thought that he couldn't quite grasp.

Beside him, Merlin stiffened.

"Oh no!"

The warlock was suddenly sprinting through the startled knights toward the doorway, Arthur seconds on his heels. Whatever had nudged the king had obviously _bludgeoned_ the warlock and Arthur was determined to find out what it was.

Merlin made it to the courtyard in record time, drawing to a halt a half-dozen paces from the safety of the covered walkway around its perimeter. He was gazing at the sky, spinning in a circle, obviously searching for something. Arthur was frowning and the knights, Gaius and Gwen were looking between the warlock and the King in confusion. "Sire, what is going on?"

Arthur took a moment to gather the right words. It was difficult. "It's almost like a _whining_," he finally settled on. "But an angry one. Like someone is having a rather spectacular snit _just_ beyond my hearing, but close enough that I can catch snippets of it."

"Wait … you _hear something_?"

Merlin's incredulous question was so loud it drew all their attentions to him, along with the attentions of a few townspeople passing through the courtyard. Arthur warily glanced at them before bridging the space between himself and Merlin and lowering his voice. "I _think_ I do," he said. "But it's not very clear."

The warlock blinked. "I can't say for sure, but … I came out here because I think I heard Aithusa crying out for Morgana and then angrily vowing to seek revenge for her death. And she draws near, knowing Morgana's foes lie in Camelot."

For a moment Arthur said nothing, he just stared Merlin. Then he nodded slowly. "I … can imagine the tone fits," he said. "It felt desolate and angry. But Merlin, no one else heard it."

Looking beyond his friend and King in the direction of Avalon, Merlin swallowed before returning his gaze to Arthur. "Side effect of you-know-what?"

Glaring at the younger man, Arthur couldn't argue. He had no better answer. "This presents a problem," the King said. "If the dragon shows up here, we'll need to stop him from attacking. I'll not allow Camelot citizens to suffer."

"Her..."

"Pardon?"

Merlin blinked. "Aithusa is a her," he said. "Female. Maybe that's why she took to Morgana, I don't know. And I won't let her attack Camelot, Arthur. If I order her not to, she can't disobey. Dragonlord, remember."

Arthur _did_ clock Merlin one this time. "Of course I remember, but _do you remember_ that it's still a secret? Or do you want all of Camelot to know suddenly? How did you keep this a secret for so long, again?"

The young warlock huffed. "Well do you have a better idea?"

Gaius stepped in before the two friends could get into a real back and forth. "Sire, if I may?" At Arthur's gesture, and knowing their time was short, Gaius continued quietly so as to avoid prying ears. "Little is known about Dragonlords in Camelot. But even among those who are in the know, Dragonlords do not always possess magic. If Merlin were to command the dragon in public, it wouldn't automatically mean revealing his broader knowledge and skill set, just that ability."

Merlin fidgeted, hands wringing in front of him. "There's no more time," he said suddenly. "She's here!"

And he was right.

Over the wall of the castle a sleek but maimed white dragon soared, diving down toward the knights and a few scattered townspeople in the courtyard. A wall of dragon's fire blew from Aithusa's snout as she flew low and Merlin darted forward, thrusting out a hand to repeal it with a half-circular shield of magic.

This wasn't Dragonlord power, but only Gaius and perhaps an onlooker well-versed in magic would realize that. When he had contained the danger of Aithusa's fire, Merlin glared through the deluge at the dragon herself. His voice came out harsh and grating as he commanded her to cease her attack and despite her desire to continue, the flames were extinguished as his power over her came to bear.

She hissed and reared at the implication that she could do no harm here and Merlin stepped forward, demanding in the dragon-tongue that she explain herself, if not in words, which she seemed incapable of forming, then in thought, which she had been doing earlier and had thereby alerted him to her approach.

The latter appeared to give her pause as she cocked her head and looked at Merlin in confusion. He nodded slowly, repeating that she could pass thoughts on to him as dragon-kin. In example, he pressed a thought toward her and waited to see if she could reciprocate.

_Missstressss._

Merlin nodded that he had heard, but was wholly unprepared for Arthur's exclamation of: "Why me?"

He'd ask later, but he suspected he knew the reason for it.

Right now, he had a mourning dragon to deal with and a courtyard that was rapidly filling with curious townspeople. "Uhm, sire, what do you wish me to do here?" He knew he had to defer to Arthur in public, he only hoped the King wouldn't ask him to chain Aithusa somewhere in the castle. As a Dragonlord, he wouldn't imprison his kin.

"Can you remove her from the city?" the King said, approaching slowly from the right until he was almost, but not quite, abreast of Merlin. He tried not to cringe under the dragon's unblinking gaze. "And order her not to return?"

Merlin nodded, relaying the request and adding a command to await his arrival in the field outside the city. He wanted to find out what had happened to Aithusa, and whether he could help mend her twisted body.

The dragon unfurled her wings and took flight, keening a bitter wail of defeat as she soared back over the castle wall and out of sight. Merlin watched her go with sorrow. He had hatched her and had hoped for a bright future for the little one – to see her so broken and tainted was hard.

Murmurs were erupting all around them from the crowd. Merlin was trying, and failing, to ignore them. He could hear "Dragonlord" and "magic" and "what will the King do" and "always knew that boy was off" from all sides and he just wanted to run and hide in some far corner of the castle.

Arthur's hand on his shoulder drew his attention back to the present. "Don't forget to breathe, Merlin," he said quietly. "Remember, we're in this together. I'm not going to throw you to the dogs." He turned to the knights. "Disperse the crowd and remind them to assemble for the announcement at noon. Answer no questions."

They bowed and immediately moved off to do as they were bid, leaving Merlin, Gwen, Gaius and Arthur to return to the safety of the castle interior. Merlin was glad to be out of sight of prying eyes, but realized – if that was the reaction he got from a simple shield and some dragon-tongue, what would happen when people saw some _real_ magic?

* * *

A/N: Well, what do you think? I'm not sure what to do with the announcement! I'm thinking basically when Arthur told the Round Table, about case-by-case magic and some acknowledgment of Emrys, but not that he is Merlin...I'm setting myself up for a LONG fic though, which I didn't want to do. I swore it'd be a few chapters ... argh.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Somehow, this turned into the longest chapter yet, I think. I'm on the fence here too. I have a soft spot for Aithusa, as you'll see soon. Here's hoping you like! :-) Let me know, please, reviews keep me going!

* * *

Merlin fidgeted as he followed Arthur and Gwen through the castle corridors. It was only an hour or so until the noon announcement and he was itching to find out _exactly_ what the King intended to say to the masses. He hoped it wasn't anything too embarrassing or … forthcoming.

Breaching the Round Table chamber entryway, Merlin made for his usual position at the midway point of the room somewhere behind Arthur, but he was halted by a firm grasp of his shirtsleeve that nearly tore the well-worn brown fabric.

"Not this time, Merlin," came Arthur's voice from his left side. "You're going to be doing a bit of speaking, and I'll not have it done from across the room. It'll be just like old times at the Castle of the Ancient Kings. Come on." And he steered the younger man to a seat at the table.

Merlin reluctantly allowed himself to be manhandled into the chair, watching with growing anxiety as others trickled into the room as if by unspoken agreement that there was another meeting. Or perhaps there was, since he hadn't been privy to what was discussed before he had awoken and entered Gaius' workroom.

Arthur slipped into his own seat next to Merlin, with Guinevere on his other side. The warlock didn't immediately notice that he was actually seated in the position usually reserved for a First Advisor. It wasn't lost on the others, however, who kept the information and their reactions to it, to themselves.

"I was hoping my announcement would be the most talked about news of the day," Arthur began, "but it appears that the dragon and, by extension Merlin here, will likely trump it. Be that as it may, the announcement will commence as planned."

He turned to Geoffrey of Monmouth, who he had asked to meet with. "I plan to announce this afternoon that the rumors of both Morgana's death and the assistance of a sorceror at Camlann – are indeed true." He gave the old man a moment to digest that news, then he continued. "Because of the obvious repercussions a bounty on that sorceror's head would cause, I've decided to instead use this as an opportunity to try a new route. To take instances of magic on a case-by-case basis."

"Sire! That's … that's a very big step!" Geoffrey said breathlessly, his robes fluttering around him as he gestured wildly with his hands. "It will have the Council of Nobles up in arms. They will be knocking at the throne room doors by a minute after noon!"

Arthur held up a hand. "I know this," he said. "But how else should I reward the assistance that man provided? By a death sentence? Hunt him down? Vow to banish him if he is even seen setting foot in Camelot? What kind of King would that make me, Geoffrey?" He shook his head. "No … I will not reward such loyalty with hatred and mistrust. It's time we took another approach."

He looked directly at Geoffrey. "I am tasking you with seeing to it that such measures are written and ready for me after the announcement. I want everything in order. I'm not lifting the ban on magic. I'm not telling anyone they can go about and practice it, but I am saying that it will no longer be automatically punishable by death."

Geoffrey was sent on his way, for once in his life at a true loss for words. Merlin watched him go, cringing as the doors shut heavily behind him. He counted a mere three seconds before: "Right, now that _that's_ over with, we move on to more _pressing_ matters. _Mer_lin? I want to know _every_ time you've used your talents to save my life since coming to Camelot. And don't leave a thing out."

Merlin swallowed, turning his head to the side and facing Arthur. He blanched when he _finally_ realized he was seated at his friend and King's right hand. Pressing that important tidbit aside, he took a deep breath. "Well you already know the _first_ time I saved your life, sire," he said quietly. "The ball where the sorceress posed as Lady Helen and tried to kill you."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I know about that time. I want to know when you used _magic_."

"I _did use magic_ that time."

His response was met with silence.

Then – "what" erupted from at least three different sources. "Wait a minute!" Arthur exclaimed. "You used magic that night? In the ball room. The _same_ ball room filled with countless nobles and citizens of Camelot and_ my father_?"

Merlin gulped and nodded slowly. "Yeh," he said. "But, in my defense, everyone _was_ asleep at the time. So no one _saw_ anything."

Arthur groaned. "Unbelievable. You used magic _right_ under my father's nose."

Gaius couldn't help a chuckle, drawing attention toward him. He sobered when he realized he'd been _heard_. "Oh, I'm sorry, sire. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Arthur shook his head. "No, Gaius, by all means, explain the chuckle. I can only assume it means this clotpole has done even _more_ ludicrous things than use magic in the same room as my father."

Merlin wanted to disappear. Maybe he could just slide down far enough to hide under the table? He was supposed to be the most powerful sorceror in all of Albion? Why didn't he know a spell to disappear? Maybe he ought to learn that one sooner rather than later now that Arthur and quite a few of the knights knew his secret?

"I'll let Merlin explain, sire," Gaius said.

The younger man turned a fierce glare on Gaius. If the physician didn't know the young warlock as well as he did, he might have been alarmed by the ferocity. But as it were, he knew Merlin would never hurt him. Though right now he was turning an interesting shade of red …

"I … uhm … I thought we were talking about how many times I saved your life, Arthur? Isn't this off-topic? Shouldn't we get on with it? I mean, the list is a bit … long," Merlin said, trying to talk his way out of explaining any of his more Uther-centric and dangerous stunts.

"Oh, no, I want to hear this, Merlin," Arthur said. "Spit it out."

"Fine," Merlin grumbled. "I did use magic in the same room as your father, on more than one occasion. I also used it in the same room as _you_ often enough. And if that wasn't stupidly dangerous enough, when your father fell ill with the same ailment that had affected Morgana back when Edwin Muirduin was in Camelot – and mind you, he was the cause of a it, a sorceror who was trying to _kill_ your father – I used magic _on _Uther to save his life. So … yeh … call me a little bit crazy!"

Silence fell again at Merlin's outburst. Arthur might have said something if he wasn't too busy staring at the faint gold sparkles in Merlin's eyes. Had he riled up the man so much that magic was leaking or something? It sure looked like specks of the gold Merlin got in his eyes when he cast a spell. Or maybe Arthur was just seeing things?

A torch near the door to the chamber flared brightly and then sputtered out. Arthur was the only one who noticed Merlin's eyes flare with it. So he _hadn't_ been seeing things. Merlin's temper was sorely stretched thin! The King chided himself for not noticing it sooner.

Gaius, sitting to Merlin's right, put a hand on his ward's arm. "Merlin, easy! Perhaps we shouldn't be jesting at a time like this. Everyone's on edge and some of us have been trying to use a little levity to cope with all that's happening."

The young warlock nodded, blowing out a breath. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "It's just … been a long few days. Losing my magic, then gaining it back and … with it some revelations I'm still coming to terms with. And then losing Kilgarrah and telling Arthur about my magic and then coming home and even more people finding out. It's just a lot, a little too fast!"

He ran a hand through his hair. "And Aithusa's not making it any easier. I can feel her confusion and her anger and it's affecting me too." The mention of the dragon reminded Merlin of something. He pushed aside his irritation and focused on Arthur, switching the topic and the focus of the conversation abruptly. "I have to ask _you_ something, sire. About earlier. Why did you say, 'Why me?' outside?"

Arthur frowned. He was hoping Merlin wouldn't ask that in public. But then again, he was making the warlock bare everything in front of the Round Table. Perhaps it was only fair? "When you were _conversing_ with the dragon, I could make out, faintly, some of what was being said._"_

He said it nonchalantly, but he might as well have shouted it from the rooftops such was the response. "Pardon me, sire, but you said you _heard_ the dragon? That Merlin was conversing with _telepathically_?" Sir Leon said, leaning forward as if he hadn't heard right.

Arthur nodded slowly. "That _is_ what I said."

Merlin was silent. He had _no idea_ what to make of this. It was unprecedented, at least he thought it was. Obviously, Arthur's new dragon sense was related to having been saved by Kilgarrah, but Merlin had no idea how extensive it might be or what it might mean for the King.

And by the way Arthur was looking at him, it appeared the King was hoping he _did_ have answers. All those times he had wished his friends knew about his magic – now he was wishing they didn't. It had been _so much easier_.

"I honestly can't say I have any idea what to expect, sire," Merlin said. "I only knew my father for a few days, and there was no opportunity to share Dragonlord knowledge. What I know I've learned from Kilgarrah or just by experience and I'm afraid it's precious little. I expect what you heard must have come from the dragon's life force sustaining you. But what it means … I couldn't say."

He had expected a reaction. Anger? Disappointment? Something. But Arthur really didn't react. He just quietly nodded. Merlin couldn't tell what he was thinking about this new development. Merlin was near his breaking point, so how close was _Arthur_ to his? After all, the man had grown up with tales of evil magic sung at his bedside. Now that he had recently been attacked by it, nearly killed by it, saved by it, surrounded by it – how was he feeling? A silent Arthur was entirely too hard to read today.

Another rather insistent wail from Aithusa had Merlin cringing and Arthur frowning.

"You should probably go," the latter said. "I expect you back in time for the announcement."

Merlin looked at him sidelong. "Please don't tell me you're expecting me to … _do_ anything?"

Arthur grimaced. "No, Merlin, I'm not going to ask that of you. The townsfolk will have heard of your Dragonlord display, however, so I _will _be addressing that, however briefly. You'll need to at least _be_ there."

This time, Merlin _did_ plant his face into his hands.

As the assembly broke up, Merlin resolved to sit for another moment. Normally he would follow Arthur and help him prepare for the announcement. Find his clothes, help him dress, the usual manservant course of the day.

Today, was different. Arthur had given him two days _off_. And he had a directive to deal with the dragon. It still felt incredibly odd to not have to lie through his teeth about where he was going to be going in a few minutes.

"Merlin?"

The young warlock had thought everyone had left the room, so when the voice sounded beside him, he jumped and spun to face its owner in surprise. "Gwen! I didn't know you were still here!"

Smiling, the Queen laughed. "I can tell. I didn't mean to startle you. I was just ..." she hesitated now, which was unlike her these days and immediately had Merlin's attention. "I know Arthur won't approve, or maybe he will, I'm not sure of much of _anything _right now." She trailed off, frowning in thought. In a moment she shook it off and continued. "Merlin, I wish to accompany you to see the dragon."

_That_ was unexpected.

"You _what?_"

Gwen held her head high, appearing ready to dig in and stand her ground. "I want to come with you," she said. "You mentioned earlier that perhaps this dragon was drawn to Morgana because she was a woman. You, Merlin, are not a woman. Perhaps my presence will make your visit a bit easier." She paused, not sure what the mirth in Merlin's eyes all of a sudden was all about. It passed quickly and she wondered if she'd ever find out what had caused it. Right now, she had an agenda to stick to and she wasn't going to go off on a tangent. "I know you wouldn't let anything happen to me. Please, Merlin."

Merlin was at a loss. "I can handle Aithusa," he said slowly. "I mean, I'd be happy for a little company, I suppose, but Gwen, I don't understand what you wish to accomplish. I don't think there is anything you can _do_ out there, really."

The Queen shook her head, her dark curls fluttering softly around her. "I know. I don't really mean to _do_ anything, Merlin," she said. "I just feel like you've done so much for all of us and you're always alone. I don't want you to be alone anymore. And I also know that while I was under Morgana's thrall, I must have at least _met_ this dragon."

Ah, there it was. Gwen was curious to see if Aithusa remembered anything of her. Merlin had to admit, it was a good idea to see if the young dragon did remember the Queen. Perhaps that connection could ease Aithusa into a sense of security long enough for Merlin to really get a full look at her.

"I guess you can come," he said. "But I think you need to tell Arthur."

Gwen sighed. "I know," she said. "Let me take care of Arthur. I'll meet you at the castle gates in ten minutes. Don't leave without me, Merlin!"

He nodded his agreement and watched Gwen leave.

Today was definitely shaping up to be strange indeed.

* * *

Queen and warlock rode silently through the forest, the former dressed in comfortable pants, blouse and cloak and Merlin in his ever-present brown jacket and trousers. They were silent as they closed the distance between the castle and the area Merlin had ordered Aithusa to wait in that morning.

As they drew near, Merlin started to hear the rumbling and grumblings of the agitated young dragon in his head. He slowed the horse and dismounted, drawing a confused gaze from Gwen. In explanation, he said, "Aithusa isn't happy. To bring the horses any further would be unfair to them. They'll be frightened by her."

With a short nod and quick dismount, Gwen was at his side again.

Now walking through the woods, Gwen kept shooting glances sideways at her old friend. He didn't _seem_ any different now that she knew he was a powerful sorceror. He still stumbled, still joked, still smiled that crooked grin. He was still shy and still modest. If he hadn't told Arthur, or if Gaius hadn't given her enough clues to guess his secret, she wondered if anyone would have figured it out.

Her attention was soon diverted to the clearing ahead when a large crash sounded. Gwen watched in surprise as the white dragon, Aithusa as Merlin had named her, smashed her tail into a tree and sent the sapling careening into a nearby cliff face with a splintering roar.

She was angry, all right.

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "Maybe you should stay behind me now," he said, moving to stand fully in front of Gwen as they got closer to the clearing and gained the attention of the thrashing dragon. Aithusa turned in their direction and immediately spewed a blast of fire at them, which Merlin wasted no time in repelling with a quick shield.

Gwen scrunched behind him, but was surprised to feel no heat from the flames as they burst and sputtered against his shield. She unscrunched and stared through them at the dragon. When the beast's eyes met the woman's behind Merlin, the flames abruptly ceased and the dragon cocked her head to the side in confusion.

_Gwen_?

Merlin looked over his shoulder at the Queen before turning back to Aithusa and speaking aloud. "Yes, this is Gwen. Do you remember her?

Aithusa nodded slowly. _Mistress friend._

So the dragon did know of Gwen. But apparently not that Gwen had been under an enchantment. Merlin thought for a moment that could be an advantage, but he immediately dismissed the idea. He wouldn't begin his relationship with Aithusa by _lying_ to her.

"No, Aithusa, Gwen was Morgana's friend many years ago, before she began using magic for evil. When you met Gwen, she was under a dark spell woven by the mandrake and Morgana to control her," Merlin said quietly.

Aithusa, a creature of magic, was familiar with mandrakes. She looked between Merlin and Gwen. _Mistres hurt Gwen_?

Nodding, Merlin said, "Yes, I imagine it did hurt."

Gwen wasn't entirely sure what Aithusa was saying, but she knew what the topic of conversation was. She tapped Merlin on the shoulder. "Can I talk to her?"

The dragon's head lifted, finding it odd that the woman was asking permission to speak to her. Was she too controlled by this man who had the power to stop her with just his voice? The dragon waited to see what Merlin would say.

"Sure," the warlock responded with a smile. "She can understand you, but I'll have to tell you what she responds. It's not much, usually. For some reason, she's unable to speak. I hope to figure out why and see if that can be remedied. By this age, she should be able to speak as you and I do."

_That _was news to Aithusa.

_Speak?_

Merlin turned to the dragon. "Yes, you should be able to speak. I don't know all that my Dragonlord ancestors did of dragons, but I do know that by your age, you should have the ability to speak, Aithusa. Something happened to you, something terrible, and it must be why you can't."

Gwen stepped out from behind Merlin, but not beyond him. "Were you imprisoned with Morgana," she said, looking sadly at the dragon. "By the Sarrum? She told me of the horrors of her time there. Of his cruelty."

The dragon's head ducked low, nearly to the ground, and her eyes spoke of unbearable sorrow. _Bad man_, was her reply.

Merlin could feel his anger rising. "How could he!?" the Dragonlord seethed. "Dragons shouldn't be caged or chained!" He had to turned aside, such was his upset. He didn't noticed that Aithusa appeared to be frightened, but Gwen did.

"Merlin, calm down, I think she's scared," the Queen said.

The young warlock deflated, slipping to sit on a freshly fallen log that Aithusa must have knocked over in her earlier anger. "I'm sorry, Aithusa," he said, his head in his hands. "Don't be frightened, please, I won't hurt you. I'm not angry at _you_, I'm angry at the man who hurt you and at myself for not being there to help you."

_Why?_ Came the dragon's response.

Merlin peered up at the dragon, who was slightly closer than before, as Gwen sat beside him. "Because as a Dragonlord, it's my duty to protect you. You're my kin. Aithusa, I _hatched_ you and named you, you're important to me."

The dragon cocked her head to the side again. It hit her then where she had seen this man before – the day she had been born. The few times she had come across him while with Morgana, there had been a vague recollection, but she couldn't place him. Now she knew where it had come from.

"Aithusa, Kilgarrah was able to gift knowledge to me. Are you aware of how to do that? Because you could 'tell' me what happened to you that way, since your speech is severely stunted," Merlin said, looking up and meeting the young dragon's curious gaze.

For a moment, Aithusa didn't respond. Then she reared up and approached more upright than prone as she normally appeared to settle. Drawing in a breath, she blew a light mist of golden light instead of flames into the open air in front of her.

Merlin smiled and nodded in encouragement. "That's it," he said. "Press the knowledge I need to know to help you to the forefront of your mind and I will receive it," he said, standing again. He looked down at Gwen. "Best if you stay right there, just in case something goes wrong."

He was putting a lot of trust in the dragon who this morning would have killed them. But Aithusa appeared to be lost and confused and was latching onto him and Gwen in her need for companionship and love. _Ready_?

Stepping into the dragon's range, Merlin looked up at the young one. "All right," he said. "Go ahead."

With more care than Gwen thought the dragon capable of earlier, Aithusa repeated her "misting" and this time Merlin let it hit him. It rustled his hair and clothes, but didn't appear to otherwise impact him. It wasn't until he opened his eyes and a flash of pure gold erupted in them that Gwen knew anything had transpired.

He grunted as a flash of images flew before his eyes.

Aithusa had been imprisoned by the Sarrum, kept locked in a cavern that quickly grew too small for her growing body. The small space, which she had shared with Morgana, had stunted her growth and her cries of pain had echoed for _miles_. If only those miles had reached as far as Camelot … or had made it to Kilgarrah's ears. Merlin reeled as more images came, of years of torment at the Sarrum's hands. Aithusa had spent so long in cramped quarter her wings could barely take her into the air and her body, while still growing, did so painfully.

Amidst the deluge of scenes, he found the reason for her lack of speech.

As the images faded, Merlin stumbled and gripped his head for a moment. It hadn't hurt, per se, but it was disorienting to suddenly see and feel the things that his dragon-kin had gone through. His own body was uninjured, but echoes of discomfort almost touched him.

Gwen rose quickly and rested a steadying hand on his back. "Are you all right?" She asked in concern. "What just happened?"

Merlin held up a quelling hand. "I'm all right, Gwen," he said. "It was a lot of images and feelings. I know what happened to her now. That man should be thrown in his own dungeons and the keys destroyed forever. He doesn't deserve to see the light of day."

If Merlin were this angry at a man, he must have been horrible, Gwen thought to herself, looking on the dragon with new pity. Aithusa looked between Gwen and Merlin, waiting for their next move. She had bared herself to the Dragonlord. What would he do?

Gathering himself, Merlin looked back to Aithusa. "I can restore your ability to speak to you," he said slowly. "But I'm not sure if I'll be able to fully restore your wings or your growth. The cavern prevented your proper development for so long, I'm just not sure if I can reverse it without killing you."

Aithusa and Gwen looked at Merlin in surprise at his surety. "You can fix her voice?" Gwen asked. "How?"

Merlin sighed. "The vocal chords aren't damaged," he said. "They are silenced." He looked at Aithusa. "The Sarrum would punish you for making too much noise. One night, while you slept, Morgana put a spell on you to try to quiet you. Unfortunately, it took away your ability to speak but did nothing to stop your cries. I don't think she knew what she had done. She was trying to help, I think."

Aithusa looked down. _Mistress dead_.

Merlin swallowed. "Yes, Morgana is dead," he whispered. Looking into the dragon's eyes, he licked his lips. "She wasn't happy, Aithusa. She wouldn't find happiness here, even if she _did_ win. But now, she is in a better, happier place. I have to believe that."

_How?_

The warlock had been dreading this moment. "I did it," he said quietly. "It was quick."

He prepared himself to repel her wrath and anger. He wasn't prepared for her actual response. _Thank you_.

Shocked, Merlin stared at Aithusa. And in her eyes, he understood why she had thanked him. She would continue for years to come to suffer from her mistreatment in this world. She couldn't escape it, while she might eventually heal from it. Morgana had had no one. Aithusa had tried to be there for her, but she was a dragon and a broken one. Aithusa was glad her friend was now at peace.

"I'm glad she'll no longer suffer, too," he said quietly. "Now, will you let me help you?"

Aithusa lifted her head and nodded slowly. Merlin smiled, coming forward slowly, taking Gwen's hand within his own until the two of them were alongside Aithusa's head. She was the size of a large wyvern and with her head bowed, they were on even keel. Merlin reached out and gently rested a hand on her head, meeting her too-sad eyes. "I'll lift the spell on your voice first," he said. He pulled Gwen's hand forward, indicating she too could touch the dragon. "Do you feel comfortable with Gwen? She can sit with you while I try to find the counter?"

Aithusa perked at the idea. _Like her._

With a smile, Merlin conveyed the response and Gwen's own smile grew. "I like you too, Aithusa," the Queen said. She sat again, this time with the dragon's head perched on the log beside her.

It was an odd site.

The Queen of Camelot stroking a white dragon's head, while the King's manservant prepared to cast healing magic in an attempt to help the dragon speak for the first time in her short, scarred life.

* * *

A/N: Hmmm, so I do keep putting off Merlin doing magic in front of the knights and more people. I think it's because I just can't figure what I would be HAPPY with him doing! Would it be too cliche for someone to attack and Merlin save the day? Oie... :-/ Or maybe just some good old beautiful stuff like he did with Percival? I don't knnnnowwwww. -Gwenneth


	8. Chapter 8

EDITED: THANKS to the reviewer who caught my flub! Gwaine came back from the dead because I tried to write two stories at once! HAH. I think I caught the references...oie, that's what I get for not having a beta!

A/N: I have a vague ending in sight for this fic! But with me, my plans often end up thrown to the wind when a better idea comes along, so we'll see if I stick to it! Sorry for the delay!

* * *

Merlin's magic wove itself with the very fabric of Aithusa's body, seeking out that of Morgana. His magic was familiar with hers and it didn't take it long to locate the spell holding the dragon's vocal chords in its grasp. It was tricky, though, this spell. Morgana, not knowing much about dragons and obviously having had no experience with silencing spells, had commanded her magic to stop the dragon from crying out with words – not sounds. He didn't want to just _tear_ the magic away for fear it would damage Aithusa and render her speechless forever.

On the outside, Merlin appeared to simply be staring at the dragon, but the gold blazing in his eyes told a different story and Gwen was completely silent as he worked. She studied his furrowed brows and the peculiar color of his eyes and wondered how many times those eyes had flashed gold in her presence.

Then there was a shudder from the dragon and a gasp from Merlin and a ball of roiling green energy spewed forth from Aithusa's mouth, hovering just in front of the dragon and held at bay by Merlin before he engulfed it with a golden ball of his own magic with a hissed incantation and _smothered_ it.

Gwen looked from Merlin to Aithusa. "Did it work?"

The Dragonlord peered up at the dragon, his breath coming faster than normal as he fought to regain himself after casting such powerful magic. "Aithusa?"

For a moment, the dragon did nothing. Just continued to gaze at the two humans in front of her. Then, she lifted her head, tilted it back to elongate her neck and opened her jaws hesitantly. At first, she could only produce a strange hissing sort of sound, but as she continued to work the previously dormant chords, a tone began to emerge.

"Heess...HYee...Yesss."

A broad grin cross Merlin's face then and Gwen stood in excitement. "Oh my!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around the man, who started in surprise, but quickly relaxed into the hug. "How wonderful! You're amazing, Merlin!"

He flushed at the praise, shaking his head. "No, it wasn't that hard," he said quietly. "I just had to pull out Morgana's spell and disperse it. Another sorceror could probably have done it. I'm not so special, really," he said, shrugging in embarrassment.

"Are ..."

Merlin and Gwen looked up at the rough – but clear – word from the dragon. Aithusa appeared to almost cough after that, and continued in thought, unable to audibly speak more than a syllable, if even that, yet.

_You _are_ special, my lord, _she said. _Your spell gave me back my speech. It has been years since I could form full sentences, even telepathically. Morgana's spell did far more than just silence my voice. I don't fault her for it, but it was hard living without a way to truly communicate with anyone._

The young warlock shook his head in amazement. "I hadn't realized," he said, quickly explaining to Gwen that Aithusa was actually quite well-spoken. The Queen shook her head in amazement, then turned to the dragon. "I remember when Morgana was truly a good person," she said suddenly. "I know in my heart, she never intended to rob you of your speech. In the end, I do believe you were the only one she truly cared about. And, I do thank you for being a companion to her when there was no one else. For all her faults, at one time, I did love her."

Aithusa bowed her head. "Me … too."

Merlin's heart ached. He had once thought the same of Morgana. When he had killed her, part of him had been glad to be finally rid of Arthur's greatest foe, but the other had been devastated that he had had to take that step. Merlin had always hoped that Morgana would realize her hatred and lust for power would get her nothing, and that she would return to them. That hadn't happened, but it seemed at least he could redeem Aithusa and return her to the fold. He liked to think perhaps Morgana would be glad her friend was getting her happy ending.

"Kilgarrah made me promise to look after you," he said quietly. "I don't like using my Dragonlord ability to order dragons around. I would ask that you remain near, so that I may call you to try and aid your growth. I haven't the energy now, nor the knowledge, but in time I hope to have both. But you must not now, or ever, attack Camelot, Aithusa. Swear this, and I won't have to order it."

The dragon bowed her head low. "I … swear."

He returned the bow and smiled again. "Then your _word _is your oath and your bond. Until we meet again, take care of yourself, young one."

She nodded her head and took flight, leaving Gwen and Merlin standing alone in the field just beyond Camelot, watching the white dragon's hindered flight with slightly less sorrow than before, but still with heavy hearts. She was still not whole.

Gwen glanced toward the sun. "Merlin, we should go. Arthur will be making his announcement soon. It wouldn't do for either of us to miss such an important proclamation."

She smiled fondly at the man when he groaned and muttered, "Do I _have_ to? Aside from my head on a block, _this _is what I was most afraid of when I thought of telling my secret, you know. I don't want people to think any differently of me."

The Queen had nothing to say to that, really, so she chose to say nothing at all, just to pat Merlin on the shoulder and urge him to hurry back to the horses.

* * *

Arthur stood on the balcony, trying valiantly not to tug on his clothing. He much preferred his usual attire, not this ceremonial garb he'd allowed George to dress him in for the announcement. But he supposed that the news of Morgana's demise and the adjustment he was making in the treatment of magic were both incredibly important and merited the change.

Beside him, Queen Guinevere was resplendent in a purple velvet gown and golden crown. Her own maidservant had braided her hair into intricate plaits that twisted together and hung over her right shoulder. Beyond Arthur were Gaius and Merlin, just far enough back to be unseen from the ground below. Arthur was still undecided if he would draw his friend forward or not, but the look of trepidation on Merlin's face was steering him toward not.

Casting his gaze back outward, he began speaking.

"Citizens of Camelot! I come before you with news this land has long awaited. The ever-present threat of Morgana Pendragon has finally come to an end. Following a long and hard-fought battle at Camlann, the Saxons were defeated and Morgana was slain. No more will her desire for the throne of Camelot endanger the lives of our people."

There was a roar of approval from the assembled masses. It was a bittersweet reaction for those on the balcony who had known Morgana the best, but it was a joyous day for the townsfolk who had suffered more than once under her tyranny.

Arthur held up a quelling hand.

"I have also come before you to address the rumors circulating the city of a sorceror who aided the army of Camelot on the fields of Camlann," he called out. The silence that followed his words was immediate and deafening. It seemed like the whole of Camelot had taken in a breath and was now holding it in anticipation of what Arthur would do.

The King wanted to look back at his friend and servant, but he didn't. Instead, he continued, "The rumors are true." A wave of muttering and gasps erupted from the people and Arthur gave them a few moments to get it out of their system before he raised his voice and continued. "The aid was unsolicited and unexpected – but vital to our success. Without the aid of this sorceror, Camelot may very well have lost the battle at Camlann."

The wave crested and broke and again Arthur waited it out. This was a lot for the people to grasp and he was going to give them a moment to do so. When it had faded somewhat, he drew in a breath. This was going to cause anger and fear – or approval and relief. He hoped the latter was predominant

"In light of this man's unbelievable loyalty to a kingdom that would have seen him dead, I cannot in good faith sentence him to death for the use of magic," the King said, pressing on despite the racket the announcement caused. "Instead I will use his example and from this day forth, magic, while still banned in Camelot, will be judged fairly – on a case-by-case basis.

The people were all reacting at once and it was hard for Arthur to discern _how_ they were doing so. Was it anger and fear at his decision? Was it hope for a brighter future? Was it relief from those who might know someone with, or who themselves possess, magic? From his perch on the balcony, he was having a time telling.

It wasn't until Merlin gasped behind him that he had a clue. Twisting, he turned until he could see Merlin's face. What he saw he would remember for the rest of his days. The younger man's eyes were wide and glistening with unshed tears.

But they weren't upset. They were happy.

"Can't you feel it?" He whispered, seeing the confusion in Arthur's eyes. "Arthur, not everyone is happy, but there are many who are rejoicing at your news. I can feel them – hear them. I once told you what I saw when I look at the world around us. When we sought the Disir. I can _see_ the magic of the land coming alive at your words – like it knows a brighter future is approaching."

Arthur smiled and relaxed slightly. He had known some would not agree, and Merlin had confirmed it, but he was heartened to know that some did. A commotion stirred just below the balcony then and Arthur could hear Sir Leon's stern warning sound from under them. He stepped forward to see what it was about.

There stood a group of men, all who had at one time or another expressed dissatisfaction with the Pendragons – whether it was taxes or land laws, the matters were usually trivial. Seeing they had the attention of the king, one of them shouted: "What will you do about your servant then, Sire? He used magic just this morning! Or will the case-by-case only apply to some, not all?

He'd been expecting Merlin to come up sooner or later. He could almost _feel _the smile slip from his friend's face behind him, but he knew if he turned it might look like Merlin had some kind of power over him. So he ignored the need to reassure the warlock and addressed the once-again-quiet crowd.

"I am aware of what transpired in the courtyard this morning," he said. "And contrary to what it appeared, Merlin did not use magic in the sense I believe you are referring to, sir." There were outbursts at his words, but Arthur's expression darkened and he raised a hand in warning, quieting the din. "When magic was banned in Camelot, much of the knowledge of it and its cousins, magical creatures, was lost. Does anyone here know of the Dragonlords?"

There were no responses in the affirmative, which pleased Arthur, though he supposed some people could be too unnerved to admit to knowing even the slightest about magic. He gestured, without turning, for Merlin and Gaius to come forward.

He heard one set of footsteps and was soon joined by Gaius. When he turned, Merlin was still standing out of sight of the crowd, pressed against the castle stonework. He made to move, but Gwen beat him to it, breaking from his side and gently taking the warlock's arm in hers to draw him forward.

Merlin wouldn't tug against a woman, the Queen no less, and so he was led to the edge of the balcony and into the spotlight he hated so much. Arthur had wanted to spare him, but apparently the choice had been taken from him by the men below.

Dressed as usual in brown, black and red, Merlin looked no different than he usually did to the people of Camelot. If anything, he looked _frightened_. Not the picture of a sorceror they were accustomed to, not even particularly menacing as Uther had always told them. And most of them _knew_ him, which made it all the more odd to think he possessed _anything_, even if the king had said it wasn't exactly magic that he had done this morning.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Dragonlords once roamed freely in Camelot, as did dragons," Arthur said. "Before the purge, they were in abundance. I'll not waste time or breath on the whys and what fors of the purge, but suffice it to say that only one dragon and one Dragonlord remain in all of Albion – and both were in Camelot this morning. Merlin acted at my behest, to order the dragon out of Camelot, before any lives could be lost."

He turned to his friend and constant companion. "By the new standards, in this case, I would not deem Merlin worthy of punishment for his deeds, but of thanks for preventing what could have been a tragedy. He is free to go about his business with the gratitude of my Queen and I." Turning to Gaius, he continued. "Gaius, long the advisor of my father, knows much of the history of Dragonlords. Is it true that to hold the power of a Dragonlord does not mean the man possesses magic?"

He was careful here to speak in hypotheticals. When it came out that Merlin was in fact a sorceror as well, he wanted to be absolutely certain had hadn't committed any perjury. "Yes, sire. Dragonlords did not always possess magic. Some did, some didn't. They were killed during the purge simply because their power was thought too close to magic to be safe, but most had only power over dragons, nothing else."

Arthur turned back to the crowd. "You have my decision in this matter, I trust no more will be made of what happened this morning."

It wasn't a question and the people knew it. Even the men who had brought it up could tell Arthur would not be swayed in this decision. While it appeared they weren't happy with it, it also appeared they didn't plan to argue.

Merlin was trembling lightly but appeared to be otherwise all right. Gwen's hand hadn't let go of his arm, which the king was grateful for – his wife could comfort his friend when he could not. Arthur turned back to the crowd. "There will be time for audiences two days from now. Tomorrow night, there will be a feast to celebrate the beginning of a new peace in Camelot. Go now and spread word of what's been said here."

He turned, exiting the balcony quickly, the others following him immediately into the chamber beyond. Merlin found the nearest chair and fell into it, burying his head in his hands and muttering how things would "never be the same" and "people are going to _stare_."

Gwen moved to follow him, but Arthur beat her to it, moving to Merlin's side and hauling him to his feet. "None of that, Merlin," he said. "You have been saving Camelot from the shadows for years. It's high time you got recognition for what you do. I _know_ you are scared of what the people will think of you, but I think they know _you_ and they will remember who you are and you'll be surprised by their reactions. They don't think you're a sorceror, Merlin, remember that. Now go, out on the town, be seen. And I guarantee – someone will thank you." He leaned in. "And Merlin, it will feel good and be well-deserved." He gave his friend a little shove. "That's an order, Merlin."

The warlock was so surprised that his feet carried him from the room before he realized what he was doing. Gwen and Arthur watched him go, Gaius drawing abreast of them. "Are you sure that was wise, my Lord," Gaius asked, worry for his ward evident in his voice. "Merlin's … not one for the spotlight."

Arthur sighed. "No, he isn't, but he deserves recognition, Gaius," the king said quietly. "And I think he needs to face this fear of rejection he has. Merlin has always pushed me to face my fears head-on. Now I'm returning the favor. He'll be fine. And … I think the people are ready for a bit of _good_ mysticism."

He didn't tell Gaius, but he had arranged with Sir Leon and Sir Percival to quietly follow Merlin if his Dragonlord abilities became a topic of discussion at the announcement. He wasn't sending the man into the masses without some protection – just in case.

Gwen embraced her husband. "I think he will be well-received," she said. "Merlin is … Merlin."

Gaius sighed. "Yes … perhaps you are right."

The stared at the vacant doorway and then went their separate ways.

* * *

Merlin stared at the archway in front of him. Beyond, he could hear the hustle and bustle of Lower Town life. He'd been standing in the archway's shadow for near five straight minutes already, shifting his weight from his left to his right foot.

"It's just a _doorway_, Merlin," he muttered to himself. "You go _through_ it. _Any_ day now."

But he _really_ didn't want to go through it. Not when the people beyond would look at him like a freak. Or would look at him and run the other way. Or perhaps even take it upon themselves to rid the kingdom of a magical threat like him.

Truth be told, he had no idea what to expect through that archway. And it frightened him more than nearly anything he had faced at Arthur's side, barring the king's near death at Mordred's hand.

He wanted to go and hide in his room. Despite having dreamed of the day his friends would know him for who he really was, Merlin hadn't _really_ thought much of the day the people of Camelot would know him for even part of who he really was.

Finally, he pushed his right foot forward and then put the other in front – again and again until he was through the archway and entering the Lower Town. Merlin cringed as the first person walked past him. Then another walked by. And another. The town was busy, this time of day. Merlin waited for the whispers, the wide berths, anything.

But it didn't come. Not right away. At first, it seemed no one really noticed him. He moved forward a little more, meandering through the street toward the marketplace. It was a few minutes into his walk when the first person _really _looked at the man approaching them in the opposite direction and did a double take.

It was Hannah, the daughter of the baker.

She stumbled to a stop in the middle of the road and Merlin, seeing her eyes on him, slowed his own walk, uncertain what to do. For a moment, he was inching and she wasn't moving. Then, the woman gathered herself and stepped briskly forward until she was in front of Merlin. She looked at him, perhaps not entirely sure of him, but not running away at least. Finally, he smiled weakly and greeted her, "Hello, Hannah," he said. "You're looking well..."

They were attracting a bit of an audience now, and Merlin wanted to shrink away. As the silence stretched, Merlin grew nervous and he actually took a small step backward. Hannah cast her gaze at his down-turned face. "Are you afraid of me, Merlin?" She asked, her voice incredulous.

Swallowing, he looked around at the small crowd on the road leading to the market. "Uhm," he stammered. "Not exactly, Hannah," he said. "I just … don't know … I don't like attention. I ..." he huffed. "I can't believe Arthur is making me do this. I don't _want_ to do this."

"Do what?" The woman asked. "Mingle with us commoners?"

Merlin looked up in surprise and exclaimed quickly, "NO! Hannah, you know me! I _am_ a commoner. I'm just a servant! Nothing more! I don't want to _scare_ people. I'm not a _monster_, you know!"

The woman's eyes softened at the pain in the young man's voice. "I … I'm sorry, Merlin, I know you're not a monster," she said, reaching a hand out and putting it lightly on his forearm. "All my life, I've been taught to fear magic and anything like it. I suppose what I saw you do in the courtyard frightened me. When you stopped that fire ..."

He cringed. That _had_ been magic, actually. But the townsfolk didn't know or need to know that. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "It's nothing to be feared. A Dragonlord can conjure a shield to repell dragon's fire. It would be a pretty short conversation if the dragon could just roast me before I got around to ordering it to do anything, right?"

Hannah burst out laughing at that, and a few others actually had trouble holding in their own laughter. Some on the outer edge of their audience actually dispersed now, returning to their business as if Merlin were just a sideshow. He was grateful for it. But not all of them had gone. A man at the left of him piped up, stepping forward to Hannah's elbow now. "How do we know you didn't order that dragon to just come back later?"

Merlin cast his gaze up to this new person. He recognized him as one of the men from earlier. Would this turn into a problem? He decided honesty was the best policy here. "You don't," he said, shrugging. "I can only give you my word that I would never do anything to harm Camelot. It's my home and all my friends live here. I have no reason to hurt anyone." He looked around him then, at the other curious and nervous faces. "Besides, if I had wanted to order a dragon to attack Camelot, I wouldn't have done it in the center of the courtyard for all to see. I wouldn't have exposed my secret to everyone in the city." He returned his gaze to the man who had questioned him. "Does that answer your question, sir?"

For a moment, Merlin feared the man might continue his line of questioning. But he did something drastically different.

He stuck out his hand.

"Then I think we owe you thanks, Merlin," he said, his hand out and only trembling a little.

The young warlock looked at the hand in shock, the expression clear on his face. It actually had a few chuckles sounding around them as the people gathered realized that Merlin really was _Merlin_, even now that they knew he was _also_ a Dragonlord.

"I don't think he bites, Merlin," Hannah said with a small smile, her own hand in the man's other hand.

The young warlock started and then sheepishly stuck his own hand forward and shook. "Right, I know that," he said, flushing. "Just a bit surprised," he continued. "I honestly thought you would all run away from me or something."

A few others came closer now, haltingly asking Merlin questions about dragons and Dragonlords. He answered what he could, and shrugged when he couldn't. Eventually, the adults began to trickle off back to their jobs and the _children_ began to bravely approach the man, watchful parents in the wings.

"Merlin?" asked one little boy, tugging on the warlock's pantleg as he walked slowly toward the market, a trail of children stretching out to both sides of him and slightly behind him. He turned toward the speaker. "Have you ridden on a dragon?"

With a wistful sigh, he nodded, "Yeh, a few times," he said with a smile. "An old friend of mine would occasionally give me lift." The children chattered excitedly at that, and more tugged on his pantlegs until he had to stop his forward motion and give them his full attention, now nearly in the center of the market.

"Oh boy!" the little one cried. "What was it like!?"

"Was it fast?"

"Were you scared?"

"Did you fall off?"

Merlin cocked his head at the last question, but set about to answer them all. "It was amazing and beautiful. It was incredibly fast," he said. "It was scary at first, and no, I never fell off, I fear I'd have been nothing more than a pile of broken bones if I had."

The children laughed at the imagery and would probably have continued questioning Merlin until they fell asleep on their feet, if not for the two knights in red cloaks that suddenly appeared from behind the man.

"Pardon me, children," came the voice of one Sir Percival. "I'm afraid we need to steal your Dragonlord away from you for a bit. He's need back at the citadel. The king needs his servant back. Rooms need cleaning, socks need washing, stalls need mucking, you know the drill."

The children laughed and Merlin's jaw dropped. "Hey! I thought I had _two _days off!" he exclaimed. Percival made to reply, but from behind him, a man's voice incredulously sounded. "You mean to say, you're _still _the king's servant?"

Merlin turned, Leon and Percival standing more firmly behind him, in case he needed them. But the man appeared more curious than anything, not a threat.

With his trademark shrug, Merlin nodded. "Of course! I can't exactly make a living commanding a dragon about, can I? I need to make an honest wage, just like anyone else."

Chuckles and smiles and knowing nods sounded around the market, and Percival clapped Merlin on the shoulder. "See, that wasn't so bad? Now, come on, Arthur really _does_ wish to speak with you." He turned the warlock around and toward the citadel, and seeing their source of entertainment was being dragged away, the children – and adults, returned to their business.

* * *

A/N: OK, so the announcement scene, eh, it had to happen, I'm OK with it. The other stuff in this chapter, it just kinda came to me and so I ran with it. Since the people know only that he is a Dragonlord, I figure a full magic reveal would be too quick, no magic in this chapter...but I have an IDEA for that for NEXT CHAPTER! :-) One that hasn't been suggested yet, but I think might be interesting. Please let me know if you like!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Sorry for the delay, but work and home stuff got in the way. I barely found time to get _this_ chapter out! PLEASE NOTE: I never intended to retell the episodes of the series, so as you will soon see, the stories ... are well ... not retold.

* * *

As Merlin, Percival and Leon walked through the streets back toward the citadel, the people continued to give them a wide berth. The knights were flanking Merlin, as they might a dangerous criminal, but the difference was they were _smiling and joking _with him as opposed to _clapping him in irons and dragging him_.

It was apparent that they had not just found out about the Dragonlord. So how long _had_ the knights known? The question might be running through the townspeoples' minds, but it didn't escape any of their mouths as the three moved through the streets.

When they breached the castle walls, the tense set to Merlin's frame evaporated by half and Percival patted him on the shoulder. "So your foray into town wasn't so bad, was it, Merlin? No one tried to take your head off?"

The warlock mock-glared at his friend. "Not _this_ time," he said. "I reckon they didn't know _what_ to make of me. But they still don't know the half of it all, remember." He looked over at Sir Leon, who was quiet. "I wonder if they'll be so docile when they do."

Having been in Camelot longer, Leon knew Merlin would face a battle when he eventually revealed his true nature. Uther had scared trust in magic out of his kingdom with his hatred of it and his campaign to eradicate all traces of it. He remembered the stares of fear he had gotten after being healed by the druids and the cup of life – and he hadn't even performed magic, just been the recipient of it.

"We'll cross that bridge when it comes," Leon finally said, not wanting to answer the question. Merlin frowned, but nodded. He had obviously taken Leon's silence as agreement – Camelot was far from ready to accept magic with open arms. "Come on, the king is waiting in his chamber."

Merlin fell into step beside the taller man as Percival bid them both farewell with a small salute and a broad grin. It was good to see the man smile, he hadn't done much of it since meeting up with Arthur and Merlin in the woods. How could he, what with Gwaine's death still piercing them all?

The young warlock shook off _those _thoughts as he and Leon hurried through the castle, sending servants scurrying into side passageways as they went. Merlin cringed as those he had just last week counted close friends dove into alcoves to avoid him now. Would the castle staff shun him? Was he going to be the outcast amongst the servants now?

As they reached Arthur's chamber, Leon slowed. "Well, I leave you here, Merlin," he said. "The king asked me to fetch you and I have. I'm sorry I can't tell you what for, but he just said to get you."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Of course," he said. "He couldn't give me a hint what he wanted, that would be too _easy_. Instead he wants me to _sweat _a little. Probably payback for lying to him for so long. I expect this sort of thing will be going on for a while."

The knight chuckled. "Yes, I expect it will." With a grin, he patted Merlin on the shoulder. "Good luck."

The warlock nodded his thanks and then turned to the door and contemplated his next move. Serious or joking? Which avenue should he take? A lot had happened since the last time he had walked through these doors. That day he had entered and told Arthur he wouldn't be accompanying him to Camlann. It had been so _hard _to hear the utter devastation and disappointment in his friend's voice at those words.

"Serious it is," he muttered.

Raising his hand, he rapped twice.

"Enter..."

The young warlock lowered his hand to the door latch and pressed it open, sliding himself in as a servant was wont to do. Rarely did he fling the door or open it much past his own body size. Arthur was standing near his window, looking out over the city. Merlin wouldn't be surprised if the king had seen him, Leon and Percival returning to the citadel a few minutes ago from his perch.

Turning, Arthur took in Merlin at the door and stepped away from the window. He looked from the warlock to the far end of the room. It was then that Merlin spied Gwen at the small desk near the other window. She stood now and hurried across the room with a bright smile.

"Merlin! You're still in one piece!" She exclaimed, immediately going to grasp his arm in greeting and pull him to the table. "I was certain people would still think of you as … _you_. I mean … you _are_ you. Even though _you_ is so different and so much more than we _knew you were_." Gwen trailed off, a small blush creeping up as she realized she was doing her customary ramble. "Are you thirsty? I can have Sara bring us something to drink?" She spun rather spectacularly, considering the length of her dress, and moved to the door.

Arthur held in a grin at his wife's antics as he sat across from Merlin, who was sitting stock still in the seat Gwen had manhandled him into. As the woman spoke quietly with Sara at the door, Arthur and Merlin stared at each other from opposite sides of the table.

Merlin fiddled with a small knot-hole in the table as Arthur's gaze bore into him and when Gwen returned to the table, her added stares began to get the better of the warlock. He finally broke. "So … did you _need _something? Sir Leon wasn't able to tell me why you sent for me. I was pretty sure you promised me _two_ days off."

The king nodded slowly. "I did," he said. "I didn't call you here to work, Merlin."

Leaning back, he continued. "You can leave, if you so desire, but I had hoped you might stay and enlighten us. You see, Gwen and I have been wondering a few things about you, Merlin. You know, basics. Like, why you chose to practice magic in a place where it is punishable by death? That sort of thing. And _how_ you managed it, when there are precious little resources to guide you."

Merlin's mouth might have fallen open, if it hadn't just taken a sip of water. He did have a bit of a problem getting his throat to swallow the gulp he'd just started, but once it was down he set the glass beside him and looked from Gwen to Arthur.

"You think I _chose_ to learn magic here?"

They exchanged looks and Gwen nodded. "Well, we don't know," she said slowly. "We've been trying to figure it out. We know very little about magic. Everything has been banned and any information locked away or destroyed. But as Arthur's servant, you have had access to the keys to the vaults. You could get to texts on magic."

The king picked up the line of thought. "We figured _that_, coupled with Gaius as your mentor, would explain _how_ you learned it. Perhaps some more came from your dragon friend. And maybe some of your disappearances were to druid encampments and you learned some magic there. But truthfully Merlin, we've got nothing but conjecture here."

For a moment, Merlin said nothing, just looked from Arthur to Gwen and back again. Then – he pushed his chair back almost _violently_ and stood. "You're … you … that is _so far_ off base … I can't even," he trailed off. "Just … _no._" Turning to Arthur and Gwen, he put his hands on the table and leaned in. "Nothing you have guessed is even _close_ except that Gaius has been my mentor. But he has taught me little _actual magic_, mostly just acted as my moral compass."

Standing back up, he shivered and pulled his jacket sleeves down until they were hanging over his hands a bit more. It was a nervous habit of his and he took comfort from it, somehow. "Let me start by saying, I'm not _normal_. Most sorcerors, and even most witches and warlocks, come into their magic in their teens. They have to learn spells and incantations and they have to practice, sometimes for _years_, to perfect their craft. Some, very powerful ones, might show magic talent in their childhood, but usually not."

Merlin rested his hands on the back of his chair and gripped it hard. "My mother tells me the first bit of magic I did was to light wet wood on fire in the hearth in the dead of winter," he said quietly. "It was bitter cold and we were huddled around it. She'd been trying to light it for many minutes. Her hands were so cold that she kept dropping the flints. It happened very quickly, she tells me. One second she dropped them, and the next a burst of flames nearly set us both on fire. Nearly scared her to death."

He met Arthur's gaze. "I was two."

Gwen's gasp didn't stop him: "So I've been practicing magic _far_ longer than I've been living in Camelot. I didn't learn it from books in the vaults, or from druids, or really from any particular source most of the time. It's more trial and error and instinct," he said. "The first time I used it in Camelot, was the first day I arrived here."

He waited a moment, to see if Arthur wanted him to continue. When the king leaned back a bit and Gwen reached over to grip her husband's hand, Merlin sat back down and spoke again. "I had just found Gaius' chambers and called out to him when Gaius, being _Gaius_, toppled off the balcony above his workshop ..."

And so the story to end all stories began.

* * *

Several hours later, Merlin's voice trailed off as Arthur and Gwen took a moment to grasp just how many times Merlin had saved the day in Camelot his first few years in Camelot – and how he had done it with _magic_ right under Uther's nose.

"I _still_ can't believe you used magic all those times in fights with bandits and no one even noticed," Arthur said, leaning back and taking a drink of his wine. "I like to think I'm observant, but after this, I'm going to have to rethink that definition of myself. You've fooled everyone for so long and not just knights, but also the bandits we were fighting! No one ever suspected you."

Merlin shrugged. "I had the perfect cover," he said. "Who would think the king's servant a sorceror? I think my position helped me keep under Morgana's radar too. It wasn't until Mordred defected and told her my identity that she found out."

The mention of Mordred was a sobering thought and a reminder of mortality. For a few moments, there was silence between the three friends. Then –

"Did you ever get hurt?"

Gwen's question was quiet, but in the quiet room it might as well have been a shout.

Merlin bit his lip and Arthur's eyes widened. "You did? _Mer_lin? What happened? You _will_ tell me this instant!"

The young warlock chafed. "What does it matter _now_?" He said, throwing his hands up. "I'm _fine_. No lingering ills. Why do I have to tell you about _those_ times?"

Standing, Arthur rounded the table, slipping into the seat beside the younger man. "Because, Merlin," he said. "You have _always_ been there for me, and I'm finding it increasingly worrisome that no one has been there for _you_," he said. Seeing the young man about to argue, he held up a hand and amended, "No one but Gaius, I know, but that's not the point. The point is, I want to know what you have sacrificed for _me, _Merlin. Please. How close did I come to losing one of my closest friends before I really knew him?"

Swallowing, Merlin tried not to fidget. He failed, but he supposed fidgeting at a time like this wasn't terribly inappropriate. This was _hard_. "There were a _few_ close calls," he finally said. "Besides the obvious, drinking poison episode, I did try to trade my life for yours once when you were bitten by the questing beast..."

"You _what_?"

Merlin sighed. He was in for a _bit _more story-telling it seemed.

* * *

"And then Finna hauled my butt up and told me to go up the next flight of stairs," Merlin said, sorrow edging his voice. "She told me that Morgana thought she was alone and wouldn't think to search further if she found her." He looked down at the table. "I wasn't really thinking too clearly by that point. But I knew that she was right. I gave her the sword and left her. I know she killed herself, so that Morgana would learn nothing from her."

He looked up at Arthur. "Many people believe in you, Arthur," he said. "Alator, Finna. They are just a few of them. There are so many more. I wish they could have been there today when you said you'd judge magic on a case-by-case basis, it would have made them proud!"

The king nodded, still reeling from the thought of _Merlin_ shot with an _arrow_ and trekking through the wilderness with such a wound. How had he hidden it and recovered with no one the wiser?

"Merlin? How did we not notice?" He finally asked, unable to hold the curiosity.

The warlock sighed, "Oh, it's not another astounding feat of blindness, sire," he said with a small grin. "I was able to call Kilgarrah from the rooftop. Dragons have great healing abilities. He healed the wound and I was right as rain. It took a great deal of his strength though. It was partly why he was so weak when you met him."

Arthur nodded, intrigued again by the power and mystery of dragons. He wondered what life might have been like if his father hadn't banned magic. If he had grown up learning about the wonders of the Old Religion and all the creatures of magic.

"Does that about cover it?" Arthur said, stretching like a large cat and glancing out the window, surprised to see that darkness had fallen on the horizon. They had been talking for hours. Merlin shook his head in the negative and Arthur groaned. "There's _more?"_

Merlin nodded, "Sort of. Just one, really. When I told you I couldn't go with you to Camlann, it was because Morgana had taken away my magic. I wasn't going to pick herbs, I was going to the Crystal Cave, the birthplace of magic, if you will, to get it back. Morgana caught wind of my plans and took down half the cave on me." He frowned. "Long story shortened, I got my magic back, with a _few_ revelations_, _and came to your rescue at Camlann. You know the rest!"

He jumped up. "Now, isn't it high time to eat? I'm starved? Dinner, yeah?"

Arthur knew Merlin wanted to avoid the subject he had brought up – specifically the "few revelations." He would let it slide for now, but one day, when the warlock least expected it, Arthur would pry those revelations out of his friend. Because one day, there would be no secrets between him and Merlin. When Camelot was ready, the court _would_ have a position for his friend and ally. One that befitted his abilities and his rightful place – at Arthur and Gwen's side.

One day – Camelot would have a Court Sorceror again.

Arthur watched Merlin all but_ scurry_ from the room with a small grin, presumably to send for a meal and escape his interrogation. He couldn't wait to tell the man his new title when that day came. And he even had a few ideas for an official wardrobe. Something fancy and befitting a warlock of Merlin's power …

* * *

A/N UPDATED 7/15/13: I decided to stop this story here at a natural ending. I hadn't updated in ages and decided instead to work on a sequel. So, look for a continuation of the story in "The Coming of Magic." And thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: There is a sequel now in the works for this story! It can be found on my profile page.

A preview from "The Coming of Magic":

* * *

"Have you anything to say in your defense?" he asked.

Blue eyes rose and met the King's.

_Uh-oh._

"I do," the man said. "_Tospringe."_

The manacles popped open and Nolan's freed hand cast to the side with a shouted word. It was only seconds before he was sending a dagger toward the King's unprotected chest with a flash of golden eyes and another shouted spell.

He was no match for the wiry servant.

Merlin's hands didn't even move, his eyes flashed and the dagger stopped in mid-flight three feet in front of Arthur. To his credit, the King hadn't even flinched or made to move. He had had complete confidence in Merlin's ability to protect him.

Nolan's eyes went wide and there were gasps from the Council members seated in the room around them. Merlin's breathing quickened behind him, but Arthur chose not to acknowledge it. He stood and reached for the dagger, which Merlin's magic relinquished when he made contact with it.

"So you sought to kill me?" he said quietly. "Why?"

The man, who was now at the sword points of four knights of Camelot, swallowed thickly. "You … killed my family. All of them. In a Druid camp. You thought we'd kidnapped the Lady Morgana. You … I hate you."

Arthur nodded. "And so you should," he said quietly. "I too would despise the man who killed my family. But if I have learned anything in these years as King, it's been that murder and killing gets one nowhere. By meeting sorcery with death, we invite more death by sorcery. By attempting more violence, you've made yourself no better a man than I was then, Nolan."

Merlin shifted behind him as the sorceror's eyes blazed in anger. "I'm nothing like you! I didn't murder anyone in cold blood!"

"No? That wasn't your intent just now? To murder an unarmed man?" the King asked, arching an eyebrow.

Nolan paused. "Then arm yourself," he said boldly.

Merlin was vehemently shaking his head behind him, Arthur could tell. "Why should I do that," the King said. "I can't fight your magic with my sword. You can attack from a great distance, while I must be in short range."

He shifted his gaze to the room at large. "I was going to sentence Nolan of Icarus to community service for his crime of enchantments. But for his crime of attempted murder, there can only be one sentence. Death. Guards, take him away. And we will hold no more court today."

...

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A/N: Check it out, you know you want to... :)

Thanks for reading "The Dawn of A New Day."


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